


Blackwork

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Thor, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’d barely had a whole conversation with each other. Thor grinned and waved at Loki whenever he came in for the day, and he’d asked Loki if he wanted to get drinks with them a few times, but it was hardly much exchange.</p><p>Loki had still decided Thor was his.</p><p>--</p><p>Tattoo shop AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first full fledged, multichapter fic ever- I apologize if it's a little bumpy!

**(one)**

The guy was huge. Massive. Loki was pretty damn sure his biceps were bigger than his head.

Loki hated him immediately.

But he had an impressive array of tattoos- blackwork, well done, all designed himself (or so he said)- and he was the only talented applicant, so Loki hired him and told him to not be late for a single appointment.

Thor just grinned and thanked him.

\--

The shop had been open for a few years. Long enough to do alright, not long enough to make Loki as comfortable as he would have liked. When it had started, it’d been small and really more of a passionate dream than anything. It was just Loki and another artist and a need to show the world just how good he was at what he did. After the initial rush of empowerment and drive had worn off, and reality sunk in, Loki started buckling down and actually making something of his shop.

He’d been slowly hiring more artists, rounding out what he had to offer, and with this latest guy, he was pretty sure he had enough hands and enough styles.

_(Amora had been the first, coming with him from the shop he used to work at. When drama went down and Loki had decided that he was better off on his own and as his own boss, Amora decided her loyalties laid with him._

_She was shrewd, gorgeous, and good at what she did. Her work was bright, and curved, and dark- in mood, somehow. Like the ink she put on people was dangerous. Loki didn’t have any work from her. She was a useful employee- but he wasn’t going to let her have any space on his body._

_Sif had come next, and like with Thor, Loki had despised her immediately. The feeling was mutual, and there were a lot of days where both of them had no idea why she worked her. She certainly didn’t work for Loki in anything other than name, and Loki had learned after one black eye that it was better to leave that alone._

_As much as Loki was loathe to admit it, Sif was the best portrait artist around. She worked almost exclusively in black and grey, and her pieces were precise in a way Loki found few portrait artists could capture. She was an asset to the shop and made him money, and he gave a place to work, so they tolerated each other. Barely._

_Volstagg was a friend of Sif’s, and he had come in looking for a job nearly immediately after Sif had been hired. Loki had sneered and sent him away- he wasn't hiring at that moment, and the large man irritated him on sight- but he came back when Loki was looking for another artist a few months later. While Loki hadn't been impressed by his larger than life, cartoonish style, it was something they had enough of a demand for that Volstagg had been hired on._

_Neither Volstagg or Sif had ink on Loki, either. He didn’t like them, and for all he appreciated Sif’s skill, he never wanted a portrait of anyone on him. Loki saw his body as far, far too good for that. They had a lot of people coming in and getting portraits covered up, and he was never going to fall prey to that sentimentality.)_

With the addition of Thor, his shop had a well-rounded range of styles. Thor’s blackwork was big and heavy, and Loki had found himself thinking that maybe, maybe he’d let Thor do some work on him. He quashed that as soon he thought it. Thor was an employee, one he didn’t particularly like (Amora was really the only one he did like, and that was just barely), and he wasn’t going to get space on his body, either.

Even if Thor’s ink had Loki’s eyes lingering longer than they should have.

\--

Loki was good with words. His lettering wasn’t the graffiti inspired, urban work a lot of the guys back at the old shop did- and Loki was proud of that. His work was clear and elegant. He did some other work, too; organic things, shapes, abstract wisps of nature. He had a piece on his back- a tree- that extended down to sleeves, that he’d designed a long time ago. Half designed. Mostly designed.

The tree had come when he was an apprentice. It had started as a seed of an idea, and expanded and expanded until he felt frustratingly stuck. It’d never happened before, and he wasn’t about to let it, but after a few months he’d decided the damn thing wasn’t worth the space it’d take.

His mentor had found the sketch, crumpled up and thrown across the room in anger. He’d slapped it down beside Loki, grabbed a pencil, and sketched out a few quick lines. It had clicked.

As bitter as he was someone else had to perfect what should have been his brilliance, Loki managed to swallow his pride enough to take the advice. If his original idea hadn’t been on the road to perfection already, then his mentor wouldn’t have been able to get what he did out of it, anyway. With just a few more days, Loki would have arrived at the same conclusion his mentor did; this was just a chance to speed up his process.

Loki started the back piece the next day. Hours upon hours later, he had his own Yggdrasil to take with him everywhere.

Loki was his own universe. Self-sufficient. He stood like the tree on his back; strong and alone.

\--

Volstagg had a leg. A practice leg. Anyone who could legally tattoo, apprentice or full-fledged artist, was free to ink it. When his leg was full, he was going to move on to his left shoulder, and then lower back. Loki didn’t understand it at all; his leg had no coherent pattern or theme, and some of the pieces were pretty awful, from people who’d only held a needle once or twice in their life.

Loki didn't have a piece on it, though. He’d raised his eyebrows and refused to indulge Volstagg when he’d asked, and Volstagg had carried on as is his boss’s contempt for his practices wasn’t obvious at all.

Everyone else in the shop had work on him, though, even Amora. As such, it shouldn’t have been surprising when he’d walked in after a quick run to get something to eat to see Thor putting a thick black band around Volstagg’s ankle. It seemed to have some patterns in it, but Loki wasn’t about to look closer.

Something in him was flaring up, and it had him sneering and storming into the back office. Possession settled low in his gut, and he stewed over his half eaten sandwich until he was disgusted with himself. Loki didn’t like Thor- he was big and vapid and laughed too loud for too long- but he was Loki’s.

Loki’s employee.

That’s all.

Loki had never cared when Sif or Amora had worked on Volstagg. He didn’t know why it mattered that Thor was giving him something, and Loki wasn’t willing to examine it further.

It wasn’t as if he was about to let Thor put anything on him.

\--

They’d barely had a whole conversation with each other. Thor grinned and waved at Loki whenever he came in for the day, and he’d asked Loki if he wanted to get drinks with them a few times, but it was hardly much exchange.

Loki had still decided Thor was his.

Thor worked for him. Loki owned him- as long as he signed his paycheques. Thor just hadn’t gotten the memo yet.

A smile whenever Thor saw him was not enough to win Loki over. The guy was too nice, way too nice, and he was either stupid or wanted something from Loki. Or both. He wasn’t interested in figuring out what it was.

Loki was willing to admit Thor was good looking, in a musclebound meathead kind of way. With arms like that, Thor could probably hold Loki down and fuck him until Loki couldn’t walk. It’d probably be damn good. It was a physical attraction, and until the itch was scratched, Thor was his.

Anyone would attracted to the guy. Everyone who came in seemed to be. Loki typically held himself above such simple needs, but it’d been a while. He’d been busy with his shop, and no one had met his standards.

No one ever met his standards.

Thor would do. He’d get in Thor’s pants, use him up, then toss him aside. The guy seemed to be one of those honourable types; it was highly unlikely Thor would quit in retaliation once Loki was finished. He’d get laid and keep a good artist on his payroll.

**(one point five)**

Sif was getting close to Thor. They’d struck up an easy repertoire within days, and Loki wasn’t liking it the more he saw it. Their touches lingered, and they were very obviously building to something.

When Loki overhead Thor asking Sif to ink one of his latest pieces on him, Loki knew this wasn’t going to do.

\--

His apartment was a piece of shit. The second he had enough saved up, Loki was getting somewhere as good as he deserved.

It did have one perk: the roof. Loki had spent a lot of time up on it, sketching and writing and thinking. He’d climbed up there as soon as he’d got home the day Thor had asked Sif to work on him.

It wasn’t a big deal. Thor hadn’t even asked her to do some of her work- he just wanted a pair of hands to put something of his on his body.

That damn massive blond brute still belonged to Loki. He would, until Loki got what he wanted. Sif couldn’t be allowed to take Thor before Loki even had a chance to get his hooks in. Loki had to get in the way, and fast.

It wasn’t even about getting laid, now. Sif wanted something, and Loki wasn’t going to let her have it.

The next time Thor asked him out for drinks with the rest, Loki accepted.

**(two)**

Thor had actually known Sif for a while. They’d lost contact when Thor had taken his truck and just left after dropping out of college, but he’d reappeared one day full of blackwork, with a tattoo license and a portfolio.

Sif hadn’t asked questions.

She did punch him in the eye.

Once it’d healed, they’d shared a beer on the hood of his truck and compared ink. They’d gotten tattooed together on Sif’s eighteenth birthday- Thor had turned eighteen a few months earlier- and had both found their interest sparked.

That they both ended up artists was just a funny turn of fate.

\--

She said her shop had an opening. Thor had raised her eyebrows and asked when she’d opened a shop, which just earned him a laugh. It wasn’t her shop, he learned, she just worked there- but she had a pretty special set up with the boss.

“You intimidated him.”

“Unintentionally. It worked.”

Thor brought in his portfolio, and the guy who actually owned the shop didn’t seem overly impressed. He had an air about him, looking down his nose through those green glasses he wore, and Thor liked him immediately.

He didn’t know why. The guy- Loki- was full of arrogance and acted as though no one could touch him. In a way, no one could; Thor’d learned no one in his shop had ever done a piece on him, and Loki was pretty adamant none of them were good enough to be given real estate on his skin. By all accounts, Loki wasn’t very likeable.

Thor liked him.

Physically, he was pretty interested, too. Loki was tall and pale, with dark hair like Thor liked and a grace Thor wanted to feel.

He kept that to himself, though. It wasn’t as though finding himself attracted to someone, male or female, was something that was rare. Thor appreciated beauty, and he found his boss beautiful. Not the first time that’d happened.

What was different was that Thor had no desire to actually make a move on Loki. He looked like he’d cut Thor’s dick off if he even tried.

\--

Pretty soon, Thor had a pretty strong desire to make a move on Loki.

**(two point five)**

“Hey. Come out with us.” Thor popped his head into Loki’s office, beaming loud and bright at his boss. Loki’s cold look was one that could freeze over hell- and Thor liked it. That air of ‘don’t touch me’ had gone from amusing to attractive in the weeks Thor’d been working with Loki- for Loki- and he had just accepted that change.

(He was pretty sure it was thanks to the challenge it present. Partially, at least. Partially a challenge, and partially liking people he maybe shouldn’t.)

“No.” Loki’s eyes went right back to the papers in front of him.

With a shrug, Thor left.

\--

“Drinks on me?” Thor leaned over the counter, fixing Loki with a smile and a quirked brow. Loki was organizing their appointment list for the next week, and didn’t even look up.

“Mmm. No.”

Sif tugged on Thor’s arm, and he left.

\--

“We’re heading out to that new bar a few blocks over, want in?”

“No.”

\--

“Volstagg’s got this weird drink he wants us to try, you up for it?”

“No.”

\--

“Hey-“

“No.”

\--

It turned into a habit. Thor’d ask, Loki’d say no, they’d go their separate ways. It almost became their goodbye, and Thor took to asking him at the end of each day, even when he didn’t actually have any plans for the night. It was a quirk of their friendship- if you could call it that- that Thor liked.

It was theirs. It was odd.

Thor liked Loki a little more than just an attraction. Maybe.

**(three)**

A Thursday. It was a Thursday when things changed.

“Hey, want to go over to that place with the red lamps all over for a drink?”

Loki fixed him with a look, thoughtful and silent for a few minutes. It was unnerving; typically the no came immediately after Thor had asked.

“Well, I suppose. I haven’t got anything planned.”

Thor was going to shrug and wave and leave- but-

“You- really? I didn’t actually have plans- I thought we were just doing our thing, you know. Everyone else has left. It’d just be me and you, if you’re actually up for it.”

A smile- a small one- graced Loki’s face, and Thor liked it. A lot. He wanted to make Loki smile a lot more.

“Perfect.”

\--

It was a good night. Thor had no idea what changed to make Loki accept his offer- he certainly hadn’t been asking over and over to win Loki over, or anything- but Thor was glad he did.

“I thought it was just our thing. I wasn’t exactly serious- most of the time. Not in the date sort of way.” With a chuckle, Thor waved over the bartender for another beer. 

“Mmm- this isn’t a date, then?” Loki’s voice wasn’t disappointed or relieved. It just- was. Inquisitive.

Thor was pretty sure this was a test.

“I’m not that kind of guy. The one who thinks persistence gets them anywhere, you know.” Thor shrugged, looking at Loki’s face for any sign he was going in the right direction. “You’re my boss. The rest of us always go out, you know- we’re all friends. I just wanted you to feel like you had a place.”

“Mmm.”

Okay, that didn’t sound good.

“Though- I am glad you accepted my offer. I’m certainly not opposed to going on a date with you.”

Honesty was always the best policy. Loki leaned in a little closer to him, that smile back on his lips- but this time, it had an edge to it.

“Good.”

\--

By the end of the night, Thor was buzzed, Loki was- something not quite sober- and neither of them were good to drive. The shop wasn’t that far away, close enough to walk, and that was as good as anything.

(Later, Thor would wonder why they didn’t get a cab. Walking back to the shop to spend the night had been Loki’s idea, and to Thor’s ears at the time, it’d sounded like a great one.)

At one point, it started raining. They ran the rest of the way, reaching the locked, dark tattoo shop breathless and soaking wet. Loki fumbled with the keys, dropping them a few times, making Thor laugh. When Loki whirled around to snap at him, Thor pushed him up against the door and captured his mouth in a kiss.

He hadn’t been planning it, but Thor tended to act on his instincts a lot. They steered him wrong sometimes, but right now, Loki’s lips were moving back against his. This time, they’d not let him down.

(Thor could swear he heard Loki chuckling into the kiss.)

Emboldened by Loki’s responsiveness, Thor slid one hand down to cup Loki’s ass, and the other under Loki’s shirt to rest on his stomach. Loki nipped at his lower lip and wounds one arm around Thor’s shoulders, the other hand resting on the waistband of Thor’s jeans.

When Loki’s fingers oh so slowly worked open his zipper as he was biting down on Loki’s neck, Thor had a moment of clarity.

Whatever they were going to do, it wasn’t a good idea to do it on the street.

“Wait,” Thor panted. “We should- inside.”

Loki pulled away, and pressed one finger to Thor’s lips. He looked amazing- those sharp cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide, lips red and with the beginning of a mark on his slender neck.

Thor wanted.

“Go home, Odinson.” Loki pulled away totally, arms folded and a smirk on his face. Thor had no idea what he’d done wrong, but one moment Loki had been trying to get his cock out, and the next he was sending Thor away.

“What-“

“You have to try harder than tonight, I’m afraid.” Loki unlocked the shop, leaned in the doorway, and pushed Thor away with one hand. “Do not be late tomorrow.”

With that, Loki was gone, past a locked door, while Thor stood in the rain. He stayed rooted to the spot for a few beats, and just as Thor was turning to go, Loki banged on the window to get Thor’s attention.

Loki gave him another smirk, then held up a piece of paper with some quickly scribbled words.

_‘Chase me.’_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor did not like games.
> 
> He did, however, like challenges, and he had a feeling Loki knew that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! If anyone is interested, I've started a Blackwork tag on my tumblr: 
> 
> http://fabulousasgard.tumblr.com/tagged/blackwork+au
> 
> It has drawings of what Thor and Loki look like, if you're curious.

**(four)**

Thor didn't really have that much to drink. Not enough for a hangover, anyway. Certainly not enough to forget Loki’s sign last night.

_Chase me._

He also remembered the bewilderment around that move. 

Either Loki was playing games with him, or he had forgotten something else that had happened that night. Thor wasn’t really sure which one he wanted it to be.  


If this was some sort of game Loki was trying to start, then Thor was not interested. Loki was pretty, and Thor liked him against all odds, but neither of those were enough to convince Thor to start going along with whatever Loki was doing. 

Thor did not like games. 

He did, however, like challenges, and he had a feeling Loki knew that. 

\-- 

For a moment, being late flitted through his mind. Thor wasn't spiteful, though, and he wasn't mad at Loki. Not really. A bit frustrated, but nothing he wouldn’t get over soon. 

He showed up exactly on time with coffee. Loki was sorting through the appointments for the day when Thor handed him one (Americano, a little of sugar, not nearly as fancy as you’d expect his coffee to be). He took it, sipped it, then sighed as if it was just good enough. 

(Which he always did, but that was what he asked for, and he’d refuse to drink anything else he was given. Thor was pretty sure Loki just didn't like giving people the satisfaction of a job well done.) 

“Where is Sif?” 

Loki didn't even look up. “Not here, obviously.” 

“Is she supposed to be?” Leaning on the counter, Thor blew on his own coffee before taking a long sip. Sweet and blond, just how he liked it. 

Loki made a face. “Yes. Where is she?” 

“What- I’m supposed to know? I just asked you where she was.” Loki wasn't blind. Far from, from what Thor had seen. He obviously knew they were close, but that certainly didn't mean Thor kept tabs on Sif. She’d probably break his tattoo needle if he tried. 

(Thor liked that about her.) 

“Yes.” Now Loki looked up at him, eyebrows raised. It was a look a lot like the one last night, and Thor was pretty damn sure he knew exactly what that was now. That look meant a test that Thor needed to pass. 

(Wanted to pass. Needed to. Whatever; it seemed Loki had sucked him into one of his games.) 

“It’s not like that between us. Sif and I are just really good friends. You think I’d have asked you on a date if I had a girlfriend?” Thor wanted to be insulted, but Loki was Loki. His few months here had taught him Loki was a bit paranoid. 

(And suspicious. And untrusting. And not always honest.) 

_(Thor wasn't sure why he liked Loki as much as he did.)_

“Mmm. I’ll remind you that you didn't mean to ask me on a date.” Loki was smiling now, though. Slightly. It was that quirked lips, sharp eyes look that always seemed a bit dangerous. 

“Yeah, point. Still, Sif’s just a friend, and as such, no idea where she is.” Thor tossed the remains of his coffee, straightening up to greet the young woman who had stepped in the shop. She was his first appointment, here to get a geometric dotwork piece he had designed for her on her thigh. 

“When Sif gets here, tell her she’s fired.” Thor waved over his shoulder at Loki’s words, before stopping and staring at Loki’s retreating back. 

“Fired!? She’s just a little late-“ 

But Loki was already in the back office. 

_**(four point five)**_

_In high school, Sif’s hair had been blonde. It had been brighter and softer than Thor’s own, and Thor had always admired it._

_When they reconnected, her hair was black._

_All Thor really knew about that was some sort of fight had happened between her and Loki, and now Sif routinely dyed her hair black. Thor had considered asking a few times, but it was best not to get between Sif and Loki._

_Sif’s blonde hair had been absolutely gorgeous. Her black hair was just as beautiful, in Thor’s eyes._

( **five)**

Amora had come in with her client a little after Thor had brought coffee, and Volstagg wasn't in today, so Thor didn't even have to look up when the door opened to know who it was. 

“Hey. Loki says you’re fired.” 

Sif snorted as she shoved her bag under the counter and went through the appointment book. “Does he. That’s nice.” 

Thor blinked, stopped, and told his client they’d take a quick break. She was grateful for a quick respite from the pain. 

“I’m not kidding. He fired you. At me, I mean, but he fired you.” Leaning back in his chair, Thor raised an eyebrow at Sif, who was sipping at her now-cold coffee experimentally. 

Deciding it wasn't worth it to reheat the coffee, apparently, Sif tossed the paper cup. “Yeah. He does that a lot. I’m surprised we went so long without him trying to fire me. You put him in a good mood.” 

Thor wanted to throw his hands up in the air, with how much those two confused him. “So you’re fired, but you’re not fired? What, you just ignore him, and he doesn’t bother trying to actually make you leave?” 

And- wait- 

“If I put him in a good mood, I don’t want to know what he was like before I got here.” 

**(six)**

There was no chance Sif would actually come to speak with him. She and Loki knew well that she was too much of an asset to his shop to actually be let go. It rankled Loki, and he was determined to someday not need her. 

Sif was not his concern at the moment, and as such, Loki pushed her from his mind. 

Thor. 

It would have been easy to just fuck Thor and move on last night, but Loki wanted more than a single night. He wanted this relationship to be in his control. Loki wanted to use Thor for as long as he wished, and throw Thor aside when he felt like it. 

He did not want this to be at the whims of Thor. The great oaf would squander it and leave before Loki was done with him. 

Loki was in charge. 

Thor wasn't that hard to figure out. He liked friendly fights and competitions and challenges, and as such, Loki would make himself a challenge. If Thor was busy trying to figure out Loki’s next move, and how to pass a test to get his reward, he wouldn’t be thinking of anyone else. 

The attention would feel just as good- if not better- that it would to finally have Thor in his bed. 

\-- 

He had two appointments. One was just a quick touch up of a tattoo quite a few years old, on a sneering bald man who seemed to have not a single word for any of them. Loki appreciated him. Whatever his reasoning, he was silent as Loki worked on him. No inane conversation to distract Loki from his work. 

The next was a lot longer. He’d been working on tattooing a tall, pale young woman with burn scars down half her body for a long while now. 

It was words. Over and over and over. Names, actually. Some were crossed out, some were underlined, some were tattooed over the same spot again and again. The book of the dead, she had said, and had simply laughed when Loki had tried to inquire further. 

Games didn’t work. Tricking her didn’t work. Simply asking didn’t work. Loki had tried every tool he possessed, but that was all he could get. The book of the dead.  


It was deathly gorgeous. 

They were on her shoulder blades, now. It’d be her neck, next. Loki knew she had plans to have him continue on to her face when everywhere else was full.  


“What will you do when you have no space left for new names?” 

Hela had laughed her soundless laugh. 

“Start a new volume.” 

Ah. “Someone else will bear your names, then.” 

“They are not my names.” 

Loki shrugged. 

**(six point five)**

“Your shop attracts some of the oddest customers.” 

Loki looked up, not so subtly admiring how good Thor looked with his hair pulled back. “I have some odd people working for me. Did you know him?” 

“What- no. I don’t think so.” Loki would have thought Thor looked embarrassed at his questioning. 

“And yet, you sent away a paying customer.” 

“His name was wrong.” 

That made Loki stop his work, frowning at Thor. True as it may be that he did many things that no one- sometimes not even himself- could understand, he was the only one allowed to act like that in his shop. Everyone else had to be orderly. “His _name._ ” 

“Malekith. It’s a name- that- he was wrong. I don’t know,” Thor sighed, “I go with my gut. That guy was bad news.”

Thor leveled a peek at the papers Loki had returned to inspecting. “And speaking of odd- more names?” 

“Mmm. I’m trying to see if I recognize any of them. There must be some reason why she wants them all over her body.” Some were names of criminals. Some were politicians. Some he didn't recognize at all. If it wasn't so long, Loki would maybe think it was a hit list. 

Perhaps Hela was the head of a powerful crime ring, and these were her contacts. Perhaps she was a dealer or something or other, and these were her clients. 

All Loki knew was that he didn't want to end up in her book. The need to figure out just what the names were was consuming him, and he’d lost a few nights sleep over it. More than a few. Maybe. He wasn’t keeping count. 

He was about to shuffle back to the first list she had given him, to start his search all over again, when a large hand covered his own. 

“Come on. You’re driving yourself mad.” Thor pulled the papers away from him, tucking them in the appointment book. “Let’s go get a drink and get your mind off this, yeah?” 

Loki was about to snap and snarl, but he relaxed his features into a smirk. “A date.” 

Thor shrugged. “A bribe. I’ll buy you beer to stop agonizing over that. It can be a date as well, if you like.” 

Loki let that hang there. After a few moments, he uncrossed his legs and got up, going to find his bag. 

**(seven)**

Thor cursed himself. He should have said yes, it was a date. No, it was just between friends. Not this- he shouldn't have left it up to Loki. 

He would have to watch himself tonight, lest Loki turn this into another test Thor had no idea how to pass. Loki seemed overly fond of constantly testing his companions, and from how he reacted, Thor got the feeling most people in his life didn't ever come close to passing. 

It would be easy to just stop and say no, I changed my mind, and then disengage himself from Loki anywhere past a professional level. In theory, it’d be easy. Loki would probably give him hell for a while, and he might end up fired, but it’d nip what seemed like a growing headache in the bud. 

In theory, it’d be easy. 

In practice, Thor was pretty sure he’d not have near enough willpower to leave his boss alone. 

**(eight)**

“So.” Loki was gazing at Thor from across the high bar table, running a finger along the rim of his half-empty glass. “Why blackwork?” 

Thor put his beer down and wiped his mouth. “Mmm. I didn't start out interested in it. Sif and I got our first tattoos when she turned eighteen. Six months later, the tattoo bug was biting me again, and I decided to go looking around for inspiration. Stumbled across some blackwork stuff, and it just kind of clicked.” 

Loki reached out, tracing his finger along Thor’s left wrist, at the edge where ink met skin. “But why?” 

“Why did it click?” Thor rubbed his beard with his free hand, thinking about that. He knew well why the blackwork style of tattooing was his thing. Trying to explain it to Loki was a little intimidating. This was something incredibly important to him, and Thor wasn’t sure he could stand Loki sneering at what he’d dedicated his life to. Not so directly. 

“It’s big. It’s heavy. It’s there. You can’t ignore a guy with his arm blacked out.” Loki’s fingers stilled on his wrist as Thor spoke. “Some people think it doesn't really have any deeper meaning. I disagree. It’s a great big statement- this is my body. This is it’s form. Sometimes you say that with just big, in your face shapes-“ Thor tapped his neck, three quarters a solid black form- “And sometimes, you start to bring some symbols into it.” He shrugged his right arm, with it’s stylized war hammer. 

“Your work- your quotes- is all about knowledge. You read the words on someone, you get what they want you to know. Mine is about feeling the presence of a body.” 

Loki nodded and withdrew his hand. He didn't say any more on the topic. 

_**(eight point five)**_

_“Thor!”_

\-- 

_Sif had changed her phone number a few times. Thor had changed his. Thor’d not been able to call her- and as such, had no idea how to find her. He missed her._

_Then he ran into Fandral, completely on accident, when he moved into the city. After a quick berating for scaring the shit out of them all, they grabbed a beer and caught up. Three hours later, buzzed, Fandral gave Thor Sif’s number and address._

_He found her apartment building, knocked on her door, and waited. Thor wasn't a man who really got nervous, but he was shifting from foot to foot now._

_Then Sif open the door, yelled his name, and flung her arms around him. “Where the hell did you go? You haven’t- It’s been years!”_

_Squeezing her tight, Thor had to fight back tears._

\-- 

_“So. Take it all off. I want to see.”_

_Thor and Sif were sitting out on her balcony, looking over the city. Sif had been eyeing his tattoos from the moment he stepped inside; Thor had seen that question coming._

_He stood, unbuckled his belt, and started pulling his pants off._

_“Wait- not out here!”_

\-- 

_And so Thor ended up in nothing but his boxers in Sif’s living room. After he’d pulled off his shirt, she circled around him, taking it all in._

_Then she lifted his right arm, and checked his bicep._

_“You had it covered up.”_

_Thor fidgeted a little. “It didn’t really fit with the rest of them.”_

_“You had it-“_

_“It’s more like I moved it, Sif. Look- come on- “_

_Sif scowled at him, and went to make herself some coffee._

_His first tattoo had been at eighteen, with her. She’d sketched herself out a broadsword in red and black. It went on the back of her neck, and she almost broke Thor’s hand holding it from the pain._

_Thor’s had been simpler. A lightning bolt, black and half coloured in with blue, on the inside of his bicep._

_He had two now, on his chest, in black with hatching. He moved it. Duplicated it. Put it where people could see it more._

_But he could see Sif’s point, and he came up behind her, enveloping her in a hug. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Just don’t run away again.”_

**(nine)**

Thor paced himself this time. He wanted to be clear headed, to figure out Loki’s moves. When they left, Thor put a hand on Loki’s lower back, and that apparently was a right thing to do. As soon as they were outside, Loki grinned at Thor, pulled him close by his collar, and kissed him thoroughly and soundly. Thor made a pleased noise in the back of his throat. 

With one hand still on the small of Loki’s back, Thor’s other went to cup Loki’s ass. That earned him a nip to the lower lip- which Thor chuckled at. His lips moved down to Loki’s neck, kissing and biting and sucking, before he pulled away, breathless. 

“My place?” 

Loki fixed him with a grin. Walking backwards, he tugged Thor along- then turned into an alleyway. 

He was back up against Thor in seconds, pushing him against the wall and peppering his lips with feather light, teasing kisses. It felt like Thor was chasing something he couldn't catch- which was, he thought wryly, exactly what Loki was going for. 

After a minute, he felt Loki’s hands on the zipper of his jeans. Thor pulled away, panting, and grabbed Loki by the wrists. “You’re really going to give me a handjob in an alley?” 

“No. You’re going to give both of us one.” Loki pulled Thor’s cock out, then his own. He pressed them together, then grabbed Thor’s hand and wrapped it around them. Tucking his head in the crook of Thor’s neck, he whispered, “stroke,” and Thor knew it was a command. 

Moaning at how damn good their cocks felt pressed together, Thor set a fast pace. Much as he’d love to savour this moment, they were out in public. No need to get arrested because his boss didn't want to wait. 

Loki was bucking his hips up, making Thor hiss at the added friction. It wasn’t long before Thor was coming, all over his hand and their shirts. Loki followed soon after when Thor stroked him, the slide aided by Thor’s come. 

Thor leaned against the brick wall, Loki against him, panting. Untangling himself, Loki tucked their cocks away, then stepped back. 

He was flushed and his lips were swollen and his shirt was wet with come, and Thor thought he looked absolutely beautiful. 

“I want you to ink something on me.” 

“What?” Had Loki been thinking about that while they were getting off? “I thought you didn’t let your employees tattoo you.” 

“Mmm. Usually I don’t. Goodnight, Thor. I’ll see you Monday. Come in early.” 

And with that, Loki was gone, leaving one puzzled but sated Thor in a dirty alley.


	3. Chapter 3

**(ten)**

With the hot spray of the shower pounding into his chest, Thor tipped his head back and closed his eyes. The water was scalding, as he always had it, and for a moment, Thor just enjoyed the mindless bliss.

Then his thoughts turned to Loki.

It was impossible to know exactly where he stood with his boss. You’d think coming all over each other’s cocks would clear some things up, but nope- Thor still had no idea what Loki thought of him. 

That he wanted Thor to ink something on him seemed like a good sign, though.

Thor had been puzzling over that ever since he’d gotten home the night before. Given Loki never allowed his employees to ink anything on him, Thor hadn't even bothered wondering what he would design for Loki if given the chance. It was a futile endeavor, and Thor liked to think he didn’t fall prey to those.

(He was wrong, a lot of the time, but he still liked to think it. He’d succeeded in this, after all.)

**(eleven)**

Sif had him strip down again in the shop a couple of weeks after Loki hired him, to show off all his ink. She had followed, after locking the front door, and then Amora and Volstagg joined them. Standing their underwear, they all admired each other, swapping stories about each piece and pointing out their favorites.

Loki hadn't joined in.

Amora, apparently, had seen all of Loki’s tattoos. There was something intimate about it that made Thor’s gut twist in jealousy. He questioned Loki about it, after they’d all gotten their pants back on, which had just earned him a smirk.

“Why, exactly, do you think you deserve to see them?”

That had stung, and it’d shut Thor up. It wasn’t as though Loki actively hid his tattoos, but he hadn't stripped down with them, either, and it made Thor wonder. Loki’s refusal made Thor long to see what art he had on his skin under his clothes, where no one could see.

**(twelve)**

Thor had never seen all of Loki’s torso, and most of his legs. He had no idea where he could place something, what it should look like, how it’d fit- No clue. There was a few feelings and fleeting concepts floating around his head, but every time Thor went to sketch, they eluded his pencil. There was too much unknown about Loki.

Eventually, Thor gave up. Loki would just have to strip down for him on Monday, and then wait a few days while Thor figured it out from there.

**(thirteen)**

Amora, Loki supposed, was nothing if not useful. That he found her company pleasurable sometimes was a perk he never really asked for, but enjoyed none the less.   
Other than the tree he wore on his back, Loki had never really needed a second eye for any of his work. He knew he was good. His hand was steady and his ideas were perfect.  
It never really hurt to have someone else look over his sketches, though. 

“Looks good. Where are you going to put it?” Amora handed the papers back over. No doubt she assumed that Loki would have her ink it on him.

“Chest, I think. Across my collarbones.” Holding the sketch up, he looked down, surveying his torso. Amora was the only person in the shop- so far- that knew what he looked like without his clothes on. 

She leaned back, squinting, then nodded. “Yeah. Should look good.”

“Of course it will. Go away.”

Amora rolled her eyes, but she did excuse herself. Thor had walked in, early as Loki had told him, with a sketchbook in his hand. Loki graced him with a smile, and was met with a bright grin in return. It sent a quick shiver of fondness through Loki, which he thoroughly ignored.

“Loki!” Thor plopped the heavy black sketchbook down on the counter, leaning over on his forearms. “I’ve tried to come up with some ideas for you, but I’m drawing a blank.”

“Ideas.”

“Yeah.” Thor flipped open his sketchbook, pushing it over to Loki once he’d gotten to a certain page, about in the middle. “I mean, I've got a few sketches, but they’re all just rough. You didn’t really tell me anything.”

Looking over the page, Loki let out a ‘hm’ and ran his finger over the pencil marks. He had to admit that Thor was talented. For all he said he just had rough sketches, there were a few really great ideas going on in the pages of Thor’s sketchbook. Loki wasn’t easily impressed, hadn't been for a long time, and it almost hurt that Thor would be the one to make him feel it.

“These are all very nice.” Loki didn’t miss the way Thor’s face lit up at the praise. “But they’re not what I had in mind.”

Frowning, Thor pulled his sketchbook back, closing it. “I expected that- you have to give me more if you want me to design something for you.”

With a smirk, Loki handed over his own sketch. “Good thing I don’t want you to design me anything.”

**(thirteen point five)**

He should have expected that, really. There was no reason for him to be so hurt by Loki simply being Loki. His boss didn’t let any of his employees put work on him- that was a concrete fact.

Thor had just been flattered he was the exception.

Of course he wasn’t, though. He had fashioned himself special, but why? Because Loki paid attention to him? Because they’d gotten off together?

Loki paid attention to what amused him, and they certainly hadn't had slow, intimate sex. Thor stewed, mourning his half-finished ideas for Loki’s skin. The whisper of ‘someday’ was still in his hopes, and he was pretty sure even if Loki had not meant for that, he’d be pleased it was there. That seemed to be the kind of guy Loki was.

With a sigh, Thor looked over Loki’s work. Words- lettering- a quote. Modified, he was pretty sure.

‘He’s mad but he’s magic. There’s no lie in his fire.’

“No lie?” Thor snorted, then quickly caught himself. “It’s nice. You just want me to put it on? I can do that. Where?”

Loki’s grin was sharp. “A liar saying he’s not a liar still falls in line with his words being lies.”

That, he supposed, was true.

“Charles Bukowski.”

“What?” 

Loki sighed, as if disappointed Thor wasn’t following. “It’s from a poem by Charles Bukowski. ‘An Almost Made Up Poem’. It’s awful. I hate it.”

Thor couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. Loki was absolutely- he was something, alright. “If you hate it, why are you having part of it tattooed on you?”

“Mmm. I don’t hate all of it. The last half. Quarter. That is what I hate.”

“Why?”

Loki took his sketch back, staring at it. “Read it sometime, you’ll see.”

**(fourteen)**

It was about around when he took a quick break for lunch that Thor realised Loki never told him where he wanted his quote. Heaving himself up from where he sat out front, outside the door, Thor brushed his hands off on his pants and went to find Loki.

He was in his office- of course- and Thor didn’t bother knocking before letting himself in. Loki looked up from his laptop, a question on his face, glasses slid down low on his nose.

Thor swallowed the urge to push them back up and brush Loki’s hair away from his eyes.

“You need to tell me where I’m putting it on you.” Thor sat in the old wooden chair in front of Loki’s desk, fingers drumming on the cluttered surface. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” Thor was well aware that was a lie. “Let me-“

Loki stood, and pulled his shirt over his head. This was Thor’s first glimpse at what, exactly Loki had under there, and his breath caught at the fact.

Loki stood there with his arms out, then spun around. Slow. That was obviously a move to indulge Thor’s curiosity, given there was absolutely no space on Loki’s back for anything new. The entire length was taken up by a tree, tall, shedding it’s leaves as though it was perpetually the fall on Loki’s skin.

Thor stood and stepped forwards, reaching over. After a moment of hesitation, he ran the tips of his fingers down Loki’s back, then up and along the lines of the tree. He’d seen Loki’s sleeves, which he could now see attached to this, but not the whole piece.

It felt a lot like Loki was sharing something Thor shouldn't squander.

The moment hung for a few more seconds before Loki broke it, turning around and backing away. Snatching the sketch from under a pile of papers, Loki held it up over his chest, right under his collarbones. “Here.”

There was no room for Thor to give his input. That was where Loki wanted it, and that was where Thor would put it.

“There.” Thor nodded.

“We start tonight.”

Thor winced. “Can’t. Sif is going to work a little more on my thigh tonight.”

If he didn’t know better, Thor would be sure the temperature in the room just plummeted. 

“No, she’s not.” 

“Excuse you?” Thor narrowed his eyes, taking a seat again. Loki loomed over him, shirt discarded yet. 

“I’m going to work on your thigh, and then you’re going to start on my chest.” Loki’s tone left no room for argument, and Thor was torn between yelling and laughing.

He did neither. 

“We’ll be here all night.”

“Yes. We will.”

**(fifteen)**

“What?”

“Loki wants to do it.” Thor folded his arms, trying to not look as frustrated as he was.

“And you’re letting him?” Sif was not at all pleased at being told she would not, in fact, be working on Thor tonight.

“He wants me to-“ But given Sif’s look, trying to explain would be futile. Thor sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry for the short notice.”

Sif narrowed her eyes. 

**(sixteen)**

As soon as Volstagg had left, a half hour after his was supposed to be gone, Loki locked the door and demanded Thor take off his pants.

“Sit down. Show me what you’ve been working on.”

Thor obeyed.

He didn’t miss the appraising look on Loki’s face when he stripped his jeans off. That was not why they were here, though, and Thor kept himself professional.

“This- see-“ Sitting, Thor motioned at his left thigh. Two swooping curves had been outlined, as well as a lightning bolt where they joined. Blackwork was time consuming, and for all the hours Thor and Sif had gotten in so far, only a small portion had been successfully filled in. They wouldn’t get very far on it tonight, and Thor wasn’t really looking to get more than an hour or two in, anyway. 

“Mmm.” As ever, Loki looked on his tattoos with feigned disinterest. Thor was pretty sure it wasn’t sincere, anyway, not after Loki took the time to ask him about his work. For all Loki was a curious man, Thor had never seen him discussing the meanings of tattoos with anyone else in the shop.

“The sketch is in my pocket. Most of it is solid, but the lightning is dotwork.” Thor gave Loki a grin. “Highly doubt we’ll get that far.”

Leaning down, Loki fished out a well folded paper. It was just a photocopy, because Sif had the original, and Thor was glad he’d thought to bring a copy at all. 

Smoothing it out, Loki put the paper on Thor’s stomach. With a smirk, he tucked the edge under the elastic of Thor’s boxers, giving the paper a pat. “There. Now it’s not going anywhere. Stay, boy.”

Snorting, Thor dropped his head back, and silently enjoyed the shiver Loki’s touch gave him.

**(seventeen)**

The buzz of a tattoo needle always put Loki into a trance-like state. If he was going to be poetic about it, he might even describe it as a form of magic. To tattoo was to create something where there once was nothing, and Loki could see how it was a part of so many religious rites.

Thor’s thighs were glorious sculpted canvases. Loki held one palm to the leg he wasn’t working on, stroking his thumb over the tan skin ever so often. 

After about forty five minutes of silent work, Thor nudged him as Loki was pulling away to wipe away the ink. Loki looked up, blinking, spell broken. Thor winced down at him. “Break time, I think.”

“Mmm. No.” 

“Loki-“ 

“Put a bandaid on. You’re done.” Loki stood, cleaning up his station. He knew Thor could go for a lot longer, and if he didn’t want to get at least most of his own tattoo done, he probably would have been content to mark Thor all night.

Sif may have started the work, but Loki was determined to finish it. Thor would look down at his thigh and forever remember it was Loki who held the needle, for all it was his own design.

Another day, though.

He stripped off his shirt, readied the transfer paper, and waited. Thor was sure taking his sweet time, and Loki was about to go find where the hell he went, when Thor reappeared. Finally.

“What took you so long- did you forget how to apply that?” 

Sitting down, Thor gave him a look.

“Someone hid them.”

“You think that was me?” Loki wasn’t sure if he should be amused or insulted. Hiding bandages was below his skillset. 

After a few seconds of grumbling, Thor relented. “I suppose it’s not exactly your style. Someone must have misplaced them.”

“Weren't you the one rearranging everything the other day?”

“Ah.” Thor chuckled at himself, then laid the transfer paper out on Loki’s chest. Whenever Thor was concentrating, his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth; it was unfairly endearing. Loki caught himself gazing- certainly not staring- as Thor leaned over, ensuring the transfer was on straight. 

Loki centered his gaze back on the ceiling and mentally shook himself as Thor went to get him a mirror. It would do no good to start staring; that lead to pining, which lead to fawning and needing. Loki wanted Thor; he didn’t need him. 

Given that he was looking to own Thor, though, maybe a few peeks wouldn’t harm much.

**(eighteen)**

The buzz of the needle, when Loki was the one wielding it, could put him into a trance. When he was the one under it, the buzz kept him sharply at attention. The pain was centering, and they mixed to force him totally into the now.

He was hyper aware of Thor’s hands, heavy on his chest as he concentrated on his work. Aware of every swipe of tissue, every press of the needle, every pause.

He was also very, very aware of Thor’s resolute silence.

“Are you stewing about the bandages?”

Thor snorted. “I’m concentrating.”

Loki thought that over. “You’re one of the most talkative tattoo artists I know.”

The needle continued to buzz. “I am not stewing about the bandages. Honest mistake. Probably on my part, really.”

“Probably.”

They both chuckled.

**(nineteen)**

Loki’s chest was red and angry. Thor didn’t know how he could look so calm.

For all he loved his tattoos, Thor hated getting them. He had no problem with pain- his tolerance was pretty high- but it was a lot of annoying pain in a long stretch. If tattoos could be done quickly, Thor would be fine, but quick tattoos were often not very good ones.

Loki looked like he was in a state of concentrated bliss, and Thor had to keep himself from stopping and brushing his lips over the raised marks he was making for it. He wanted to open Loki’s mind and pry out his secret to taking this so damn well.

It wasn’t that he was meaning to be quiet. Not directly. Loki might not want one of Thor’s designs on his body, but he had asked Thor to be his hands, and that counted for something. Thor knew he was damn good at what he did, but Loki made him feel like he had to prove it all over again.

He was concentrating, that was all.

So he missed the look Loki gave him when he paused to wipe away the area he was working on until Loki cleared his throat.

“What-“

Oh.

He’d been stroking his thumb over Loki’s chest.

Thor withdrew his hand, giving Loki a grin full of confidence he didn’t feel like he had at the moment. He wasn't a nervous guy, and Thor knew his way around charming the pants off nearly everyone he came across, but Loki made him feel like a thirteen year old figuring this all out for the first time again.

Loki caught his wrist and brought it back to his chest. He sat up slow, eyes somewhat glassy and thin lips slightly parted. 

Thor was expecting a remark- something witty about his restraint or such- but instead he found Loki’s face hovering near his, close enough to-

“Kiss me.” 

Thor did. 

**(twenty)**

They met in a hot slide of tongues and nips of teeth, Thor’s free hand tightening around the back of Loki’s neck. Loki let go of Thor’s wrist and wound his arms around Thor’s shoulders, prompting Thor to pull Loki into his lap.

With a bite to Loki’s lower lip, Thor moved his mouth to Loki’s neck. It was long and pale and just begging to be marked up- so Thor latched on with his neck, intending to bruise.   
Idly, Thor wondered if thinking of this was what had kept Loki so blissed-out while Thor worked on him.

The insistent pressure in his jeans had him groaning against Loki’s skin. Those slender hands Loki possessed trailed down his stomach, to his fly. With a flick, Loki opened Thor’s top button, and oh so slowly unzipping him and pulled out his cock. Thor bucked up into his hand, panting.

Loki pulled away, and Thor tightened his grip on Loki. With a chuckle, Loki dislodged his hands. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And he didn’t; Loki simply slid from Thor’s lap to kneel in front of him, breath ghosting over Thor’s cock. As Loki gave the underside a long lick, from root to crown, Thor dropped his head back and wound his hands in Loki’s hair.

Loki swallowed him down, hitting around halfway before pulling back up to tease the head of his cock with his tongue. Just when Thor was about to go mad, Loki took him back in his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbed his head. The pace was agonizingly slow, but Thor resisted fucking up into that sweet mouth.

Loki’s gaze flicked up to meet his own, and Thor groaned. He looked amazing, even with his chest red from-

Right.

“Loki, wait.”

Loki pulled off Thor’s cock, frowning. Thor grinned sheepishly and pointed at Loki’s chest. “We should bandage that up first.”

Looking down at himself, Loki let out a ‘hmmm’. Then he stood, and waved a hand at Thor. “You can go home now. I will take care of this.”

“What- It won’t take that long!” Thor sat there, cock out, dumbfoundead.

“No. But you didn’t get near enough done. Should I really reward you for having no self-control?”

“You told me to kiss you!” Thor ran a hand through his hair, then tucked himself away, exasperated.

“Oh. Did I?” Loki gave him a grin so sweet it could only be fake. “Well then. Go home, Thor.”

Thor wanted to tear his hair out. After a moment of staring, he got up, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny  
> blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny  
> they are small, and the fountain is in France  
> where you wrote me that last letter and  
> I answered and never heard from you again.  
> you used to write insane poems about  
> ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper case, and you  
> knew famous artists and most of them  
> were your lovers, and I wrote back, it’ all right,  
> go ahead, enter their lives, I’ not jealous  
> because we’ never met. we got close once in  
> New Orleans, one half block, but never met, never  
> touched. so you went with the famous and wrote  
> about the famous, and, of course, what you found out  
> is that the famous are worried about  
> their fame –– not the beautiful young girl in bed  
> with them, who gives them that, and then awakens  
> in the morning to write upper case poems about  
> ANGELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ told  
> us, but listening to you I wasn't sure. maybe  
> it was the upper case. you were one of the  
> best female poets and I told the publishers,   
> editors, “ her, print her, she’ mad but she’  
> magic. there’ no lie in her fire.” I loved you  
> like a man loves a woman he never touches, only  
> writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have  
> loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a  
> cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom,  
> but that didn't happen. your letters got sadder.  
> your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all  
> lovers betray. it didn't help. you said  
> you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and  
> the bridge was over a river and you sat on the crying  
> bench every night and wept for the lovers who had  
> hurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but never  
> heard again. a friend wrote me of your suicide  
> 3 or 4 months after it happened. if I had met you  
> I would probably have been unfair to you or you  
> to me. it was best like this. 
> 
> \- Charles Bukowski, An Almost Made Up Poem


	4. Chapter 4

**(twenty one)**

“Thor!”

“What?”

Blinking out of his stupor, Thor gazed over at Sif. It was six in the morning, and they were commiserating the early hour over a cup of bland coffee. Sif, Thor knew, was trying to talk to him- but Thor was off in his own thoughts. He gave her a sheepish grin.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Something about- you needing my help moving?”

Sif sighed. “Close enough. _Hogun_ needs our help moving. He’s found a place closer to downtown- Thor!”

Thor’s head snapped back from where he’d been staring outside.

Leaning forward, Sif swatted his arm, but she didn’t say any more.

**(twenty two)**

Helping Hogun move quickly went from Thor and Sif doing their friend a favour to a proper get together. Thor had casually mentioned it to Volstagg, who had invited himself along to help out. Amora had overhead them, and decided she would come supervise, and she would be bringing her boyfriend- Thor was pretty sure that was what he was- Skurge to help with heavier things. A call to their friend Fandral, and they secured drinks.

Loki had been scarce all day, and Thor wasn’t sure if he should be happy about it or not. Inviting Loki along just seemed like trouble. Amora and Loki got along- Thor was pretty sure they did, most of the time- and he and Loki had that whatever-it-was going on, but everyone else?

Thor was a bit scared of inflicting Loki on them.

So when Loki stalked in and announced he would absolutely not be bringing anything but would see them all there, Thor had no idea how to react.

Their gazes locked, Loki smirked, and Thor knew he was in trouble.

Good.

**(twenty three)**

It was Amora. Amora had texted him, telling Loki his new toy was throwing a party. Of course he’d invited himself, and finding out after the fact that there was a lot of heavy lifting and manual labour for someone he didn’t know and probably wouldn’t like was information that came after the fact.

No matter.

Loki was going for Thor. To get his hooks further in Thor. To make sure no one else touched his property. It didn’t matter if the rest of the company turned out to be bland and grating; Thor would be there.

Thor. Thor Thor Thor.

Loki tugged on his hair, trying to bring himself back to base. Ever since he’d hired Thor, his thoughts had been taken over in steadily increasing amounts. At this point, it seemed like his whole damn life revolved around his employee.

He was losing his sense of self to this obsession.

Oddly, though, for all it enraged Loki, it felt right. The need to possess and hold and control Thor as much as Thor effortlessly controlled his thoughts had become, in a short time, Loki’s driving force. It was his purpose, his calling-

Loki tugged his hair again.

**(twenty four)**

“You know, it would be far easier to move the fridge if we emptied it.” Volstagg leaned against the counter of Hogun’s former kitchen, beaming at the gathered bodies. Hogun gave him what was equivalent to an amused look and shook his head.

“Appliances stay.”

Not deterred, Volstagg slapped one meaty palm on top of the tiny fridge. “Then- I should get rid of the food in it for you, so that it does not go to waste and rot!”

Elbowing his friend as he walked by with an armful of pots, Fandral laughed. “Nothing in there is so delicate it’s going to go bad on a thirty minute drive. Go help Thor with the bed.”

With a huff, Volstagg went to investigate the bedroom.

Hogun gave Fandral a grateful nod, and they both went to find a box. Amora was handing them out, perched on the yet-to-be-moved couch in the middle of the now rather sparse living room. Sif was trying to get her to do more, every time she walked by with another armful of something or other, but that just was not happening. Skurge was dealing with Hogun’s bike at the moment, and Loki-

Loki was nowhere to be found.

No one was really surprised. Loki didn’t like anyone but Amora, and Thor- sort of- and even those were debatable. Why would he actually show up to help them move? Saying he’d show up, however, had everyone on their toes, waiting; Loki’s absence was felt more keenly than his presence would be.

Especially for Thor.

He’d progressed to a full blown rain clouds and thunder pout by the time they were doing the final lookover of Hogun’s apartment. Sif was about to pull him aside to tell him to knock it off when there was a knock at the door.

Thor basically barrelled Sif over, going to answer it, and yeah, it was Loki- leaning against the door frame with a smirk and a bottle of wine.

“Am I late?”

**(twenty four point five)**

Hogun’s wineglasses were all packed away- and his mugs, and cups- so Thor and Loki settled for passing the screw top bottle back and forth. Loki was perched on the counter, with Thor standing beside him.

Closely beside him.

“Thought you wouldn’t show up.”

Loki snorted. “Did you miss me?”

Thor just nudged him as an answer. “How did you get up without buzzing, anyway?”

“I live on the next floor down.”

Loki ignored Thor’s gaping look in favour of taking another sip of wine.

**(twenty five)**

Packing was only half the job. It was dark by the time they’d unloaded all the boxes and furniture into Hogun’s new place. Once Hogun’s bed was set up, he kicked them all out- it was time for drinks. Work was over for the day.

There were a lot of small, dark, dirty bars in the neighbour. They all piled into the first one they came across, loudly yelling for just about everything they had behind the counter. Someone sectioned off a corner of the room, and a bunch of tables were shoved together. Thor kept a good grip on Loki’s shoulder, steering them to the end.

Loki was rather amused.

It was clear Thor wanted to talk to him, and so Loki made that as hard as possible. While in truth he had no interest in Volstagg or his hoard of children, Loki kept his employee talking with inane questions about anything and everything every time Thor opened his mouth.

Thor was adorable when he was fuming. Loki allowed the stab of fondness at the sight.

Eventually, Thor’s hand clapped on his shoulder, and squeezed hard enough to earn him a glare. Leaving off from where he was asking about kid number four’s school play- or dance recital- or something- Loki leaned back, arching an eyebrow at Thor.

“Have I done something?”

Loki laughed at that. “And why, oh why, would you think that?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Thor dropped his hand, and Loki rolled his shoulder.

“I was not aware I owed you company.”

“That’s not-“

Loki just shook his head. There was a smile on his face, though, and after a moment, he reached out and cupped Thor’s cheek. “You really did miss me.” After one day- one commitment he almost flaked out on- Thor was pining for his company and attention.

Perfect.

Thor huffed, but he seemed rather pleased he had Loki’s attention. Loki let him have it, listening to his chatter- not really absorbing, though- before he put his hand over Thor’s and smiled.

They were finally ready.

**(twenty six)**

Thor had no idea what happened. One second, he was- finally- having a proper conversation with Loki, and the next, they were shoving each other’s pants down in the back of his truck.

Not that he was complaining. Thor just had no idea what had changed. Loki kept giving out all these mixed signals, and Thor- didn’t- ohh-

“Don’t stop doing that.”

Loki laughed against his neck, cupping Thor’s balls in one hand as he straddled his thighs. Thor had one hand tangled in Loki’s hair, and the other was squeezing Loki’s ass appreciatively.

Think later. Sex now.

Thrusting his hips up, Thor moved to press his middle finger against Loki’s hole. That earned him a small groan, and so he stopped, moving his hand away to grip Loki’s hip.

“The fuck are you doing-“

“I don’t have anything.” Thor didn’t want to go too far and hurt Loki.

Grumbling, Loki leaned back, sizing Thor up. Thor took the chance to thrust his hips up. “There are other things we can do-“

“No.”

Fuck. Loki was going to just leave again? Really?

“We’re going to my place.” Loki gave him a wink.

Oh.

**(twenty six point five)**

Thor had drank more than Loki, and so Loki drove. Worked just fine for Thor, because this meant he could rake his hungry gaze all over Loki.

Loki, of course, noticed. “What?”

“You’re gorgeous.” Thor smiled at Loki, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Loki didn’t answer.

**(twenty seven)**

Loki didn’t give Thor any time to look over his place. Keeping their lips pressed together, Loki walked Thor backwards to his bedroom, one hand slipped up Thor’s shirt. He’d picked his target well; Thor was massive, and gorgeous- Loki wanted to run his tongue up and down Thor’s abs, taste them and have Thor begging for more.

He pushed Thor backwards onto the bed. Taking his sweet time, Loki stripped down. His shirt was flung into Thor’s face, and by the time Thor’d pulled it off, laughing, Loki had spun around and was slowly sliding his jeans down the curve of his ass.

Thor’s breath hitched, and Loki grinned.

Finally, finally, he moved to straddle Thor. Naked, his tattoos were on display like they hadn’t been before, not for Thor, and Thor was hungrily taking them all in.

He paused on the blue ink on Loki’s hips, dragging his nails down the marks. Thor had seen those before, though- had seen the flat tears Loki had imprinted on his skin- and they didn’t hold his attention for long.

His thighs. Loki’s thighs were what Thor lingered on, and Loki cursed himself for not thinking.

“I am made for thunder,” Thor mumbled, reading. “You will be my lightning. I like it.”

Loki slid one hand in Thor’s hair, tightening his grip immediately. “Don’t-“

“You’ve seen my-“

“Don’t.” Loki pressed their foreheads together, voice dripping venom. “I got them long before I met you.”

Thor flipped them, and scooted down, running his lips over each thin line of words on Loki’s skin. He smiled up at Loki before pulling his own shirt off, and yeah- yeah. Loki had seen them, the lightning bolts on Thor’s chest and back. He’d just never connected it.

Loki barked out a laugh.

**(twenty eight)**

Once he had his pants off, Thor pressed their bodies together, chest to shins, cock to cock. He took them both in hand, stroking slowly. Loki moved his head and latched his teeth onto Thor’s neck, earning him a groan.

It was surreal, finally being here. Thor had told himself Loki was just messing with him, that he never had any intention of fucking him- but Thor was wrong, and he was glad of it.

Loki’s teeth moved to the other side of his neck, and Thor groaned, stilling his hand. They’d already gotten to the handjob stage, and he was naked in Loki’s bed. He wanted more. Now.

“Where-“

“Drawer.” Loki shoved him away, grabbing a tube and a few condom packets. Thor immediately slicked up his fingers, and whispered for Loki to flip over.

There was no ink on Loki’s ass, which honestly surprised Thor. He’d thought the leaves on Loki’s back might extend down, or there might be a witty quote, but there was nothing but full, pale flesh. Leaning forward, Thor bit into the meat of Loki’s left buttock.

There. Now it had a mark.

Loki reached back and swatted him for that, which Thor figured he deserved. After an annoyed command to ‘get on with it’, Thor pressed one finger to Loki’s hole, not quite giving it enough pressure to slip in.

Loki was tight, and so Thor went slow. Resting his weight against Loki’s back and his cock against Loki’s thigh, he moved his finger slow, thrusting it deep. Nuzzling the back of Loki’s neck, Thor eventually slipped in a second finger, scissoring, and then a third, which made Loki’s breath catch.

When he added a fourth, Loki thrust his hips back, chuckling. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that big.”

Thor bit his shoulder for it, because yeah, he was.

(Not that he would brag- or anything- but he was thick, and there was no need to make Loki uncomfortable.)

But he acquiesced. Ripping open a condom packet, Thor leaned back, rolling it on and slicking himself up. Grabbing a pillow, Thor shoved it under Loki’s hips, before guiding his cock to press against Loki’s hole.

After the initial resistance, Thor slipped in, inch by inch. Loki was tight around him, even with the preparation; Thor had to force himself not to move when he was finally fully seated, panting harshly against Loki’s neck.

A few seconds passed before Loki nodded, groaning. “Yeah-“

That was all the permission Thor needed.

He started his thrusts slow, shallow, pressing as close to Loki as he could. Loki’s didn’t stand for that very long, for all Thor wanted to draw it out, and was soon thrusting his hips back to meet Thor.

“If you do not fuck me, I am going to fire you and throw your pants out the damn window.”

Thor laughed; the threat was empty, and Loki’s voice was already breathy and wrecked. He did give in, though- Thor was starting to notice a pattern- picking up the pace. Leaning back up, he gripped Loki’s hips, using them as leverage.

“You- fuck- you haven’t been fucked in a while, huh? You’re goddamn tight. And eager.” Thor grinded his hips in deep, throwing his head back. “Shit.”

“Picky about the cocks I take.” Loki’s hips were still thrusting back, desperate for more of Thor. “Fuck- You just-“

Whatever witty retort Loki had for him was cut off with a particularly hard thrust. Thor chuckled, keeping that up, which earned him a lot of choked off moans that went right to his cock.

Loki had the sheets fisted in his hands, his head turned so Thor could see the glazed look on his face, and his hips were moving in need. It was, hands down, the best thing Thor had seen all year. He made sure to commit it to memory.

Thor wondered if Loki could come like this, could come on his cock alone, from just the drag of his thick length against Loki’s prostate. He’d be moaning and sobbing and begging, writhing oh so sweetly-

If this became a regular thing (Thor hoped it would), he’d have to bring that up to Loki. See if he was willing to try.

For now, Thor tangled one hand with Loki’s fist, and wrapped the other around Loki’s cock. Mouthing at Loki’s shoulder, Thor stroked his cock out of sync with his thrusts, overloading Loki with sensation. Arching his back, Loki seemed unable to decide what he wanted to get more of, and Thor didn’t let up.

With a steady stream of curses, Loki came all over Thor’s hand and the pillow, clenching down tight on Thor’s cock. Thor stopped for a second, panting, still hard and oh so damn close.

“Well?” Loki tossed him a look over his shoulder, mouth half open in a dazed smile. “What are you stopping for?”

“Fuck.” Conscience of how sensitive Loki must be now, Thor resumed his thrusts, fucking into Loki with barely held back desperation.

When he finally came, it was Loki’s name he repeated, over and over.

**(twenty nine)**

The incessant beeping of an alarm pulled Thor from a very comfortable sleep. Fumbling with the covers, he moved enough to slap it off, before looking at his surroundings properly.

Ah. Right. Loki’s place.

Where Loki should have been, beside him in bed, was empty. Thor ran his hand along the sheets, sighing at how cold they were, before plucking a note off the pillow.

_‘Lock up when you leave. Give me the key at work. Don’t eat my food.’_

Thor sighed, and just went back to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**(Thirty)**

Thor had turned off Loki’s alarm without a second thought. He’d assumed he would wake up in a few minutes- a half hour- he was no stranger to catnaps.

A smack to his ass woke him up instead, and from the look of the sun, it was around noon. Thor groaned into his pillow.

“You’re lucky your appointment was a no-show.”

A weight settled against his side, and Thor felt Loki mouthing along his neck. At his attempt to turn over, Loki tutted, giving him a nip.

“You didn’t listen to me. I told you to lock up and give me my keys. _At work._ Not to lay here and take advantage of my hospitality. “

Thor muffled a snort, still face down in his pillow. “I didn’t eat your food, at least.”

That earned his ass another smack.

“Look at you. Like a big lazy cat. I let you fuck me once and you think you can stop listening. Clearly, this was a mistake.”

Now Thor did turn over, shaking Loki off. Staring up at him, Thor felt his heart drop. This- whatever this even was- would be over before it started, simply because he’d decided to get a little more sleep. “Loki-“

“Shut up.”

Loki wasn’t fazed by the new position; settling himself between Thor’s legs, he leaned one hand on Thor’s chest and stroked Thor’s cheek with the other. “You’re so beautiful. I want to spit on your face and then kiss you. I can’t stand it.”

Thor frowned, but he still moved his arms to wrap around Loki, which Loki hummed at.

“You need discipline, don’t you? Blowing off your responsibilities because you got laid.”

Thor opened his mouth to protest, but Loki slapped him, stunning him into silence.

“I did not say you could speak.”

Well.

**(thirty one)**

Loki rested his head against Thor’s chest, just listening to him breathe. It was confusing. Loki seemed upset, but content to just cuddle here. He said the previous night was a mistake, but made no effort to kick Thor out of his bed.

Thor had no idea what Loki wanted.

To be fair, though, he had been at a loss as far as what Loki wanted ever since he’d been hired.

Not wanting to break the peace, Thor said nothing, just letting Loki rest against him. His cheek stung, and he was going to address that later- slapping to get your point across?- but for now, cuddling was nice. Thor liked cuddling. He was a cuddler.

A pinch to his side pulled Thor out of his comfort. Loki was nuzzling his chest, chuckling.

“A mistake. I should have fucked you instead.”

Thor sputtered a little.

**(thirty two)**

Thor had been allowed to touch far too early.  Loki had been lax, complacent- Thor wanted him, and Loki wanted that wanting. He hadn’t been thinking.

It was time to fix that mistake. Quickly, before it spiralled out of his control.

Thor was beautiful. Achingly so. His thick, heavy tattoos fit around his form like lace and silk. Loki wanted to run his tongue along each one, memorize Thor’s taste. He wanted to cup Thor’s pecs as though they were breasts, and bruise his pretty face so that no one else could see what Loki did.

Loki told Thor all this, revelling in the way his eyes widened.

The way his cock thickened.

“Tsk. You want this. Good- I would hate to have to waste time convincing you.”

Thor opened his mouth to protest, and Loki again slapped it shut.

“Mmm. No. Tell me, Thor, have you ever let anyone fuck you before?”

“I- No-“

Perfect. Loki shivered, with lust and with excitement.

**(thirty three)**

Rolling off Thor, Loki stood, stripping down without ceremony. Raking his gaze over Thor, Loki took in his form- his flushed gaze- his very, very interested cock.

Good.

“You want this?”

Thor’s gaze focussed into a glare.

“I didn’t really imagine it would be like this.”

“But you have imagined it,” Loki said, lips quirking up.

Thor cursed.

Loki smirked.

“Roll over for me. Put a pillow under your hips.” Sorting through his drawer, Loki didn’t even give Thor a second look- he knew Thor would do as he said. Thor was interested, intrigued, nervous… all things working in Loki’s favour.

Out of the drawer he pulled a small bullet vibrator, and nodded. The lube and some condoms were already on the nightstand (useful last night), but Loki didn’t have much use for them just yet.

“Hey,” Thor groaned, voice muffled by his pillow. “What are you waiting for?”

Loki settled down between Thor’s legs, on his stomach, pushing Thor’s thighs farther apart. He took a moment to just squeeze them, marvelling at the muscles; there was so much of Thor, and Loki hadn’t even begun to explore it all.

“Be patient.”

Pillowing his head on Thor’s ass, Loki switched on the bullet. He teased it down Thor’s buttocks, making him tense, then back up, past Thor’s hole- which earned him a confused groan- down to rest against Thor’s perineum.

Then he leaned forward.

**(thirty four)**

He wasn’t expecting the tongue.

The vibrations had been throwing him off, in his defense.

Thor had been rimmed before- not _often_ , but before- and it’d been good. They hadn’t really known what they were doing, though.

Loki knew what he was doing.

Loki’s tongue traced around the rim of his hole, then pressed lightly against it, and back. As far as Thor could tell, there was no real pattern; with every swipe, Loki was changing his angle, the pressure, the speed, and it was driving Thor mad.

As was the bullet pressed nearly against his balls.

Letting out a moan, Thor braced himself to grind into the pillow. When Loki had asked him about bottoming, Thor had thought he meant a cock in his ass. This, though. This was good. Great. He’d be okay with waking up to this, which meant he’d have to start sleeping over at Loki’s more.

Yeah.

A smack to his ass stopped the movements of his hips.

“Thor.” Loki’s voice was a growl.

“Yeah- what?”

“I said, do not move.”

Sighing, Thor nodded. Fine. He could stay still. He could try.

Loki’s tongue stiffened and pushed against his hole and okay, fine, he couldn’t stay still, but Loki wasn’t reprimanding him this time.

Trapped between Loki and the bed, Thor huffed and groaned as Loki’s tongue all but fucked him open. He couldn’t come without being touched- especially without any real prostate stimulation, but this felt damn good and Thor didn’t want it to stop.

Which is probably why it stopped.

Loki rested his chin on Thor’s ass, still moving the bullet in slow circles. “I wish we were in the shop. I want to tattoo your ass.”

“Yeah,” Thor huffed. “What would you put?”

Loki hummed and switched the bullet off, but didn’t give Thor a response.

**(thirty five)**

_Mine._ That’s what Loki would put.

But it’s too early to tell Thor that. Too early for Thor to know how much Loki values him. Needs him. Wants him.

Thor needs to know he belongs to Loki, of course. Loki won’t have anyone else touching Thor.

But telling Thor that he’d mark his ass- permanently- is a bit too much to admit. For now. Maybe.

**(thirty six)**

Loki’s weight shifted off of Thor partially as he reached for the lube and a condom packet. Thor watched, biting his lip and spreading his thighs a little more.

Well. Loki apparently did mean putting a cock in his ass.

That was fine. Thor had excellent anal hygiene. He’d wondered about this. Yes. A cock in his ass. He could do this.

Apparently his thoughts were showing on his face, because Loki was laughing at him.

Pressing a slick finger to Thor’s hole, Loki leaned over, his voice barely more than a whisper. “If you don’t really want this, let me know. I’ll stop. I’d rather not force you- you probably wouldn’t come back.”

Thor snorted, pushing his head back into the pillow. He hadn’t been lying when he said that this wasn’t how he imagined it’d be, but Loki was right. He had imagined it. And he did want it. He just thought it’d happen a little differently.

Didn’t matter. Right now he wanted to see what Loki’s cock would feel like in his ass.

“Yeah. Yeah, I want this.”

“Good.”

There was pressure against his ass, and then Loki’s finger slide in. He fucked Thor slow, getting him used to the feeling, and by the time he slid a second finger in Thor was about to yell at him to just hurry the fuck up already.

When Loki scissored his fingers, Thor yelped. The stretch wasn’t _bad_ , but it sure as hell was _different._ Loki, apparently pleased with this response, did it again- and again- whispering that he needed Thor loose to take his cock.

Thor groaned.

Loki pushed in a third finger and Thor clenched, earning him a groan from Loki.

“Fuck. Come on.”

Loki tsked. “You don’t want me to hurt you, Thor.”

“Your cock can’t be that big. I’ve seen it. I’ve been-”

“You’ve been what?”

Thor scowled. “I’ve been fucked on two fingers before. Mine. Not for a while, but I can take it.”

Loki spread all three of his fingers in response to that and Thor wasn’t sure if he should be sobbing or moaning.

By the time Loki was fucking him on four fingers, Thor’s erection had flagged a little. It wasn’t that the stimulation and the stretch didn’t feel good- it did- but Loki was taking so damn _long._ Thor was not, generally, a patient man, and he was nervous. The sooner he got Loki’s cock, the sooner he’d know what it felt like.

Then Loki’s fingers probed for something and everything went kind of white.

“Fuck-“ Thor hadn’t thought Loki would go for his prostate at all. He thrust his hips back, but Loki was pulling his fingers out.

Before Thor could complain, there was the sound of a condom packet tearing, and he sighed and tried to relax. This was it- after this, he could say he’d had a cock in his ass. Maybe he even liked having a cock in his ass.

He could hear Loki slicking himself up, and then there was pressure against his hole again. Loki’s free hand rested on his lowerback and he whispered, one more time, “Do you want this?”

“Fuck. Yes, I want this. Fuck me already.”

Satisfied with that, Loki resumed pressing. It hurt- Loki felt bigger than Thor thought- but eventually, after Loki grunting out an instruction of ‘bear down’, Loki’s cockhead slid in.

And then, slowly, the rest of it.

By the time Loki’s hips pressed against Thor’s ass, his erection was back at full mast. Yeah- seemed he liked having a cock in his ass. So far.

Thor clenched around it and huffed at how damn _thick_ Loki felt.

“Oh, darling,” Loki cooed. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come before I can properly ruin you.”

Thor clenched again in response.

**(thirty seven)**

Loki’s pace was slow. Deep, but slow. He wanted Thor to get used to the feeling, yes, but he also wanted Thor to feel every inch. Loki wanted Thor to never take another cock again.

Well, never to take one until Loki was done with him.

And so he let Thor feel every bit of him, revelling in the huffs and whimpers and moans from Thor. He was taking to bottoming with gusto, more than Loki had thought. The assumption had been that he would have to get Thor used to the idea, fuck him a few times before Thor was really into it.

Instead, Thor was trying to thrust back against his cock, clenching tight.

Good.

Gripping Thor’s hips harder, Loki thrust in hard, deep, and kept that up- punishing thrusts in followed by slowly pulling almost all the way out- which had Thor keening.

Thor shifted his weight to grab his cock, fisting it desperately. Loki considered batting his hand away, but Thor had already taken well to so much. They would work on Thor coming just on Loki’s cock some other time.

When Thor came, he did so with a shout, clenching hard around Loki. Picking up speed, Loki fucked hard into Thor, chasing his own orgasm before Thor was too sensitive to let him go on. Leaning over Thor’s back, Loki drove in to the hilt and came, wishing deliriously that the condom wasn’t there and that he was coming bare inside Thor.

Marking him.

**(thirty eight)**

Loki rested against his back for mere seconds before pulling up and pulling out. Thor winced at the empty, stretched feeling; surprisingly good as being fucked was, he wasn’t going to look forward to getting used to that feeling.

When Loki came back from tossing the condom, Thor grabbed his wrist, tugging him back down into bed. Loki let out a noise of discontent, but he let Thor hold him against his chest. Hell, he even relaxed into it, wrapping an arm of his own against Thor.

Thor sighed in contentment as Loki moved to run his lips over Thor’s chest. It wasn’t hard to figure out the pattern- Loki was tracing his tattoos. It was intimate in a way that made Thor shiver.

Yeah, Loki was a bit out there. He was moody and Sif didn’t like him and he made Thor mad in a way that made Thor think Loki liked his anger. But this was nice, the sex was great, and out there meant Loki wasn’t boring.

Thor could do this more often. He could do this every day.

“Hela wants you to tattoo her next time,” Loki murmured against his skin.

Skipping his first question- _why_ \- Thor sighed. “Do we have to talk about work in bed?”

“Hmm?” Loki rubbed his nose against Thor’s chest. “Isn’t that what this is?”

Thor sucked in a breath, then shoved Loki off of him. Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his jeans, cheeks red.

Loki didn’t say anything to make him think this was something _special_ , yeah, alright- Thor maybe had assumed- but that stung. It stung and Thor didn’t want to deal with it.

As he slammed the door of Loki’s apartment, Thor swore he could hear Loki laughing.


	6. Chapter 6

**(thirty nine)**

“I don’t know why you bothered.”

Thor slumped, resting his head on the cool surface of the bar table in front of them. Sif was watching him with pity and anger (at Loki, he thinks) and- amusement.

That stung. She wasn’t being malicious, though, and Thor knew he deserved it.

“Really- I’m sorry.” Sif reached out to ruffle Thor’s hair, and he looked up at her.

“I don’t know why I’m taking this so damn hard. It’s not like we were properly a thing.” Thor sat back up, tracing the rim of his glass in thought. It was just sex, mostly. Not like they had a super strong emotional connection. He was being ridiculous. Loki was his boss. Loki was-

Fingers snap in front of his face. “Hey,” Sif said, frowning. “You’re doing that thing.”

“Thing.”

“Yeah.” She tipped her beer towards him. “The one where you shove everything into a big box of denial, trying to fool yourself. Stop it.”

“I- What? I don’t do that.” Thor grabbed at her bottle, taking a swig to spite Sif.

She studied him, then shrugged. “Maybe. But Thor, it’s either all or nothing. You either feel everything honestly, or you shove it all down. Don’t shove this down.”

The condensation on Sif’s stolen beer was suddenly very, very interesting. Thor bit his lip, then snorted at Sif. “You just told me you don’t know why I bothered.”

“I don’t. But I know you did bother, and that means you liked his madness.” Sif shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Thor didn’t, either.

**(forty)**

There are a lot of destroyed sketchbooks in Loki’s office. Some have been burned, half charred and yellowed. Some are water damaged, having been submerged in a bucket for hours. Some are just ripped up.

One is covered in red paint.

Loki hates a lot of his work. None of it is perfect. He must be perfect. Everything must be proper and he must be in control.

But he keeps the sketchbooks. He keeps the destroyed remains of abandoned tattoos.

They’re good reminders.

**(forty one)**

Amora was glaring at him.

Loki didn’t care. Really.

“What.”

Amora sighed at him and threw a wadded up paper at his head. Loki unfolded it, and it read, ‘really?’, with way too many question marks.

“Care to elaborate.”

She threw her arms out, then shook her head. “Thor.”

Oh. That.

“What about him.”

“It’s been two weeks,” She said, and now there was an exasperated grin on her face. “You two are obsessed with each other. But two weeks, and you’ve not said a word to each other. Hell, you’re deliberately ignoring each other.”

With a roll of his eyes, Loki threw her note back. “It’s all part of the plan.”

“Plan. To what, piss him off? What the hell do you have a plan for?”

Loki didn’t answer, and Amora stared at the ceiling, thinking.

“If you’re done with him, can I fuck him?”

“ _No_.” Loki’s hand tightened on the sketchbook in his hands, and Amora gave him a knowing look.

“Pity.”

**(forty two)**

At some point, someone else had finished Loki’s tattoo. Thor saw it when Loki wore a v-necked shirt one day.

Thor did care. He wouldn’t lie to himself about that. It hurt. He’d loved being the one permitted to touch Loki’s design.

**(forty three)**

Volstagg held a warmth about him that Thor loved. He was bigger even in heart than he was in body.

When Volstagg invited Thor and Hogun to Sunday family dinner, they both accepted for exactly that reason.

Volstagg’s wife was just as warm and kind as him, and their children were good. Loud, energetic, a handful— but good. You forgot about your troubles with them. Thor ended up with a lapful of toddler, telling stories about the work on his arms. There were loud declarations of getting a tattoo, too, and being like daddy, and Thor just laughed.

At one point, he and Hogun were in the kitchen together, helping with the dishes, and Hogun turned to him.

“Take off your pants.”

Thor sputtered. “What?”

Hogun just gestured at Thor’s jeans. He’s never been a particularly wordy person, so Thor just sighed and did as commanded. The kids were off watching some or other movie, and it’s not like Volstagg would find this weird.

“What are you looking at?”

“Thigh. Wanted to see how it’s coming.”

Thor looked down at his half-finished piece, then up to Hogun, eyebrows raised.

“You’ve not worked on it in a while.” Hogun was raising his eyebrows back at Thor, and Thor’s mouth twisted. He’d sent Hogun and Fandral a picture of it last time it’d had more work. Of course he’d have memorized it. Hogun paid attention to that sort of thing.

“And— what,” Thor sighed. “You’ve been talking to Sif.”

Hogun tipped his head, and Thor doesn’t even need to ask what he’s getting at. Thor’s not had any more work on it because he wanted Loki to do it, but doesn’t know how to ask.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like Loki, Sif sure cares about us a lot.”

That earned a snort from Hogun, who was quiet as Thor pulled his pants back on. His voice was quiet when he spoke again, deadly serious. “I don’t trust him.”

Thor frowned. “He’s not that bad. Weird. Cold. Mean. But he’s… Loki. I like it. I like him. It feels—“

And then Thor sucked in a breath, and laughed.

“Yeah. Time to stop moping.”

Hogun gave Thor a very satisfied look.

**(forty four)**

There was a body on his desk, and Loki had been ignoring it for the last ten minutes.

When he looked up, Thor was there, in nothing save for his boxers, and Loki swore. Subtle. He was just so charmed.

“Can I help you?”

Thor patted his thigh, and Loki smiles.

**(forty five)**

Of course it was only a matter of time. Loki had Thor wrapped around his little finger. He’d seen how dejected Thor had looked. The fact that Loki had missed Thor— at night, when he was laying spread eagle in his bed— meant nothing serious. It just meant Loki wasn’t bored yet.

That’s all.

They didn’t fuck at all that night. Loki worked on Thor’s thigh early into the morning, until Thor was biting his fist to hold back tears of pain. It was four am by the time they stumbled into their respective beds.

Despite the pain, Thor felt better.

**(forty five point five)**

Loki fisted his cock furiously, images of Thor’s thigh red and angry in his mind. He’d done that- he’d marked Thor. It’d felt like coming all over Thor’s pretty face. Better than, probably. Loki wanted to runs his nails over the skin, hear Thor hiss from the sensation.

**(forty six)**

Loki watched as Thor shook Hela’s hand, eyes narrowed. He had no idea why Hela was so keen on having Thor work on her. They have done more than well, her and Loki– to switch to another artist now made no sense.

Hela looked at Thor like she’s hungry. Loki’s hand shook. Thor didn’t notice either of them.

The next list of names, going on Hela’s neck, was handed to Thor. Thor looked over them, frowning, but he didn’t ask. He was just his usual cheery self. It was maddening. Loki wanted to shake them both.

Wanted to ask why.

He tore himself away, storming into his office.

Any feelings of jealousy were resolutely ignored.

**(forty seven)**

The way Hela smiled made Thor uncomfortable. She didn’t look real. Didn’t look alive. It wasn’t right. He didn’t ask who she was, though. Loki had worked on her enough in the time Thor had been here that he had an idea. Whatever she did, it’s not legal. And whatever these names were, they’re not innocent.

Smoothing the transfer paper over the back of Hela’s neck, Thor ghosted his hand over one of the names. He knew it– it’s some politician. Thor frowned.

But he didn’t ask.

**(forty eight)**

Thor found Loki when Hela left. Loki eyed him as he came up from behind, spinning Loki’s chair and dropping to his knees.

“Can I help you?”

Thor snorted, laying his head against Loki’s thigh. “I don’t like her.”

“Like how you didn’t like Malekith?”

Thor turned his head and nipped Loki’s leg. Winding a hand in Thor’s hair, Loki tugged, fighting back the rush of affection. This looked good, Thor kneeling before him. It was right. Loki was the one in charge in this relationship.

Thor reached out, gripping Loki’s hip. “Hey. Let’s not talk about other people right now.”

“You’re going to blow me here? Now? The others haven’t left yet.”

Thor got up, shoving one of Loki’s boxes of sketchbooks in front of the door, then returned to his spot. “They all know, anyway.”

Loki let Thor unzip his fly, rolling his eyes at the triumphant smirk on his face. If Thor considered getting his face fucked a victory, let him have it.

Thor’s touches started out light, teasing along Loki’s cock, causing him to quickly rise, from half hard to full. Leaning forward, Thor flicked his tongue across the head, and Loki gripped the arms of his chair, thrusting his hips towards Thor.

“Impatient,” Thor laughed, but he complied. His mouth was wet and warm around Loki’s cock, and tight, as Thor hollowed out his cheeks. It turned out Thor is very, very good at sucking cock, and Loki sneered, wanting to know exactly who taught him. It should have been Loki. He should have been fumbling as Loki talked him through it.

Thor grazed his teeth across Loki’s cock as he pulled off, eyebrows raised at Loki. “Hey. You want to think or you want this?”

Loki shook himself. Right. Thor was here. This was what mattered right now. He had Thor in his sight.

“Well. Get on with it.”

Thor grinned, like sucking Loki off was the best damn thing in the world, and took Loki back in his mouth. There was a rustling of fabric, and Loki peered down to see Thor pulling his own cock out, fisting it slow.

Oh. That was good.

Winding his hands into Thor’s hair, Loki thrust up, causing Thor to buck back for a second. They eyed each other for a second, then Thor nodded. Loki kept up his pace, fucking into Thor’s mouth, head thrown back. Every few seconds, Thor moaned, and that was what was pushing Loki to the edge more than the feeling of Thor. Thor was getting off on this, on being used by Loki. It was gorgeous.

He pulled out of Thor’s mouth and rubbed his cock against Thor’s lips, Thor curling his tongue around the head. Fisting himself desperately, Loki gasped and came-

Right all over Thor’s face.

He heard Thor’s gasp, and then a low moan; Thor had came all over the floor.

Loki panted, leaning forward. Thor was gorgeous, splattered white with his seed. Running his thumb over Thor’s lips, Loki smiled. “Good.”

But not as good as tattooing Thor.

**(forty nine)**

The moment Thor had figured out what Loki meant to do- that Loki meant to come all over his face- Thor’d felt a worryingly urgent sense of need. It was an intimate act that Thor had never allowed before, in any sense.

Reaching up wordlessly, he waited for Loki to hand him a tissue out of the box on the desk. Wiping it away, Thor sighed up at Loki, trying to look exasperated. “And who told you that you could do that?”

Loki rolled his eyes, nudging Thor with his foot. “Clean up the floor, too. Then back to work.”

Thor snorted, but he complied. If Loki wasn’t in a mood to be around him, Thor wouldn’t push it. Their relationship was still some fragile, unnamed thing.

**(fifty)**

They don’t go back to each other’s places often. Not anymore. Now they stay in the shop after it closes. For all Loki was in charge, it was neutral ground. Some nights they just have a beer and watching some or other movie on Loki’s computer. They fuck often. They even talk, and Thor felt like things are better, even if Loki was tight lipped about a lot of things.

One night, they’ve both got the itch. It was still a little early to work on Thor’s thigh, and they both wanted something; big pieces would mean only one of them would get something done.

They broke for thirty minutes, going to figure the best tattoo for the other. It was an admission of trust from Loki that Thor held close, even if Loki specified no blackwork.

Thor choose an old runic symbol. It was shaped like a cross, with three prongs on the bottom, and circles on every end. Apparently, it brought luck in business, and Thor wanted Loki to have his shop for a long time.

When Thor saw what Loki picked- a runic compass- he laughed. “We think alike.” They selected symbols from the same culture.

They do Thor first. The compass is going on the back of his unused thigh, while Loki’s was going on his hand. Thor left the colour up to Loki, and Loki picked a dark green. Thor liked it.

He bit his fist through most of it. The pain wasn’t as bad as it would be in bonier parts of his body, but it still wasn’t Thor’s favourite feeling. The buzzing of the needle went for two hours, with breaks, before Loki pulled away.

“Hm- is it done?”

“No,” Loki said, reaching up to pull down Thor’s underwear. “Do you trust me?”

Yes. No.

“With what?”

Loki slapped Thor’s ass. “With your body. And my needle.”

Thor breathed for a moment. “What are you going to do?”

“Mark you. As mine.”

Thor looked back at Loki, eyes wide. “Yours. Loki, we’re not-“

Loki stared at Thor, unwavering, and Thor shook his head.

“Not this time.”

Loki’s stare turned hard, but he returned to Thor’s thigh. Thor felt like he’d failed some test, but he wasn’t ready. They hadn’t even talked to each other about what this was yet.

**(fifty one)**

Thor perched on the chair, pants-less, trying to avoid putting too much pressure on his thigh. The lines were thin, but they still bled, and there was no use in aggravating that. He wiped off Loki’s hand, then lifted it, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“Thank you for this.”

Loki looked over at Thor, and nodded.

“It’s not what you’re making it out to be.”

It wasn’t Thor’s original work.

Thor was holding on to the ‘yet’ at the end of those sentences. Someday.

(And someday- someday- he’d have some of Loki’s work, too.)

Thor had picked a dark red to compliment Loki’s dark green, which made Loki roll his eyes. The lines on Loki’s hand were thicker than the one on Thor’s thigh, but Loki didn’t ask for a break; Thor had to force one.

“Where do you go, under the needle?”

Loki was looking at his hand. At Thor’s question, he pursed his lips.

“Nowhere. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Thor didn’t want to accept that, but he did. This was not the time to push Loki.

**(fifty two)**

As soon as Loki took the bandage off, everyone in the shop was looking at his hand. Volstagg just compliments him, saying the piece looks great, but Amora looked at Loki and Sif looked at Thor.

Thor grinned. Loki scowled.

(Later, when Thor dropped his pants to show off his new ink, Loki grinned too.)

Sif dragged Thor away for lunch, and from the look of it, she didn’t know if she was happy or steaming.

She settled on annoyed.

“It doesn’t go with the rest of your ink.”

Thor made a show of looking over his arms, then looked up at her, eyes wide. “You’re right! It doesn’t! What have I done?”

Sif swatted him.

“Why let him?”

Thor’s eyebrows dropped as he gripped the edge of their table. “Fuck, Sif- can you make up your mind? Do you hate me and him, or do you like it?”

“Don’t you- don’t you dare give me that, Thor.” Sif’s look was rock hard, and Thor held up his hands in surrender. “I like you happy. But you let him put something on you that isn’t your style. Did he force it?”

“Force it-“

“Was it one of his power plays?”

Thor leaned back, arms crossed. He wanted to protest, but with a bit of reflection, he knew Sif was not that off base with her assessment of Loki. Using their art as a manipulator wouldn’t be above him. Loki had already tried.

But Thor had said no, and Loki had respected that.

“No. I’m happy with it. I asked him to put it on me. He asked me to put it on him.”

Sif sighed and nodded.

**(fifty three)**

Amora was back, raising her eyebrows at him.

“What,” Loki said, not willing to play her game at the moment.

“I thought you’d be done with him before it got this far.”

With a sigh, Loki got up, closing the door to his office. “I’m not bored yet.”

She propped her feet up on his desk, inspecting her nails. Loki’s eyes were drawn along the ink on her long legs, before he looked up to her eyes.

She looked smug.

“You’re not bored because you like him. Stop it.”

Loki sat down across from her, rubbing his temples. “What- you want him?”

“Yeah. You’re going to toss him away sooner or later. Speed it up. Make it sooner. I want a piece.”

A stab of possessive anger hit Loki’s stomach. “That’s why you wanted me to make up with Thor? So I’d get bored and get over him and not care when you fucked him?”

Amora nodded, shrugging.

Loki slammed his fist down, nearly spitting at her. He composed himself in a second, though, sitting back and glaring at her. “You can’t have him. Even ig-“

He caught himself.

“Even when I’m done with him, don’t touch him. You have your own toy. Stop trying to touch mine.”

Amora pouted, and Loki stormed past her, out into the shop. Thor was working on a client, blacking out their leg, but it wasn’t near as important as Loki.

Pulling on Thor’s shirt, Loki tugged Thor away from his client, who was grateful for a break. Loki grabbed the back of Thor’s neck and crushed their lips together, earning a noise of surprise from Thor. He went along with it, though, nipped back at Loki’s lips, before pulling away with a breathy laugh.

“Right here? Middle of the day? What’s got into you?”

“Well, you blew me in the office in the middle of the day, so.”

Thor frowned at Loki, going to grip Loki’s hip. Sif was staring at them. “Are you okay?”

Loki let out a breath, then stepped away from Thor, nodding. “Fine. Just wanted you for a second. Go back to work.”

A very confused Thor was left in the middle of the shop as Loki stormed out.


	7. Chapter 7

**(fifty four)**

When Loki moped, he moped spectacularly. His tantrums could take out cities. He wasn’t above destroying material possessions in petty anger. It didn’t make him feel much better happier, but it was satisfying—like his anger was being affirmed.

There was one absolutely massive brood working itself up in Loki’s chest when his phone rang. And rang again. And a third time. On the fourth, he picked it up, cursing out whoever dared bother him in his me-time.

“Loki? Let me up.”

Ah. _Thor_. Loki stared at the wall for a moment before pulling his phone away from his ear to hit nine, buzzing Thor in.

Which, really, was a bad idea—Loki was moping about Thor. Stupid, gorgeous, kind, annoying Thor, who was ruining all of Loki’s plans to stay calm and cool and detached. Thor, who apparently wasn’t aware he was supposed to remain a toy.

Loki let Thor knock three times before letting him in. Thor didn’t look overly bothered by that, which made Loki want to slam the door in his face, but Thor held up a bottle of white wine and Loki decided that was enough of an offering.

“What are you doing here?” Loki didn’t look at Thor as he closed and locked the door, jaw tight.

There was the clinking of glasses, the pop of a cork, and then the rumble of Thor’s voice from in his kitchen. “Bringing you a drink. You need one, looked like. Come here, come on.”

With a sigh, Loki complied, following Thor’s voice. Thor had shrugged off his jacket, giving Loki a clear view of the way his shirt stretched over his pecs, and Loki licked his lips. Well. If Thor was here, maybe they could find _something_ to occupy themselves—and Loki wouldn’t mind taking his bad mood out on Thor’s ass.

Taking the offered wine glass from Thor, Loki sipped it, raising his eyebrows. “Sweet. What is it?”

“Gewurztraminer.” Thor turned the bottle, showing Loki the label.

“Gewur—Is that for my benefit or yours?”

Thor fingered the stem of his glass, eyes crinkling. “The shop I apprenticed in—I got close to one of the women there. Janet. It was her favourite, and she turned me on to it.” He shrugged. “Figured you could use some sweet in your life right now.”

**(fifty five)**

They’d finished off the bottle and migrated to the couch, where Loki slid on top of Thor and kept his mouth busy with kisses. Thor was here to talk about something or other, Loki knew, but he wasn’t going to rise to that bait. Loki was not going to let Thor get his misguided concerns into Loki’s head.

Thor grabbed Loki’s ass, squeezing and making a noise of appreciation. Loki nipped at Thor’s lip, moving to bite along his neck. Thor thrust his hips up, grinding their cocks together through their jeans. Loki moaned. Thor—

Was talking.

“So you know that song—“ Loki bit down on Thor’s shoulder, but it didn’t make Thor falter for long. “If you liked you should put a ring on it?”

“Yeah. Beyonce.” Why the hell were they talking about Beyonce?

Thor shuffled them, sliding out from Loki and going to retrieve his jacket. Pulling something out of the pocket, he flopped back down beside Loki, handing it over. It was a piece of paper, folded up carefully. Loki opened it, and raised his eyebrows.

It was a sketch of a leg—specifically, a calf—with two ringed tattoos. “Blackwork—with snowflakes?”

“Yeah. I mean.” Thor was fidgeting. Loki had never seen him this nervous. “I like it, so, I want to put a ring on it.”

Loki took a moment to groan at that before handing the paper back. “Elaborate.”

“Well—okay.” Thor smoothed out the paper on his thigh, giving Loki a small smile. “Whatever we’ve got, it’s not just sex. I think. But we haven’t said it yet, and I want to. I want to say it. And—hey. I know putting something of mine on you is a really big step, and I don’t mean we have to do it now.”

There was a rising dread in Loki’s stomach.

“But the meaning behind it, you know. This is me saying look, I want this to be serious.”

**(fifty six)**

A pin dropped.

**(fifty seven)**

“No. No, Thor—what the fuck—“ Loki was yelling at Thor and Thor’s heart was sinking. Yeah, he’d expected a freak out, but not rejection. Not right off the bat. He’d thought—He’d read this—

“Loki. Loki.” Thor grabbed Loki’s arm, startling him out of his yelling about how Thor was assuming too much. “Look. I hear you, okay? I did assume. Okay? Calm down.”

Loki stopped, glaring at Thor.

“But.”

“No. No, shut up, no but.”

“ _But_.”

Loki wrenched his arm away. He didn’t want to hear it, but Thor wasn’t giving up.

“Look, Loki. I’m not leaving here without a definition. Either this is over, or it’s just some friends with benefits thing, or it’s more—“

“Don’t you _dare_ pressure me—“

“ _Shut up_. I’m not. Whatever we decide I’ll make myself okay with, but I need to _know_.” Thor gritted his teeth, sighing at Loki. He couldn’t take it anymore. Wondering about Loki and how they both felt was wearing on him.

“You can’t pin me down.” Loki wrenched the paper away from Thor, staring at it with fury colouring his cheeks. “You can’t do this. You want official—“

Loki balled up the paper and threw it, then dropped his head in his hands. After a moment, Thor wrapped his arms around Loki and pulled them back to lay together on the couch.

Okay. This was bad.

“This nebulous unsure thing between us is no good.”

“Shut up.”

Thor did.

**(fifty eight)**

They fell asleep like that, clinging to each other. Loki woke up to Thor drooling beside him, which sent a terrifying stab of fondness through him.

There were a lot of things Loki could lie about, both to himself and to others, but apparently this wasn’t one. Thor had worked his way into Loki’s life, and Loki couldn’t break it off. He liked having Thor here far too much, which was a terrifying though.

By the time Thor woke up, blinking at Loki and rubbing his beard, Loki was calm and in control again. He ran a hand into Thor’s hair, yanking it and shushing Thor when he protested.

“Yes.”

Thor blinked his sleepy eyes up at Loki, still wincing from the pressure in his head. “Yes?”

“Yes. To this.”

The smile Thor gave him was blinding.

**(fifty nine)**

Two black bands. Negative space in the shape of snowflakes, irregularly placed.

**(sixty)**

“You look happy.”

“Hm?”

Thor looked at Sif, smiling over his coffee. The shop was a dump, with badly painted walls and tacky coffee themed décor, but Thor loved it. It was the best place in walking distance of the shop.

“I’m happy about the coffee,” Thor said, putting down his mug.

Sif rested her cheek on her knuckles and smiled at Thor. She could see right through him, but that was nothing new. That was Sif. Thor loved it about her. She could look at the entire world and see the truth in everything. It was too bad she wasn’t the president; she’d get things done.

“Coffee? Is that what you’re calling him?”

Thor winked at her.

**(sixty one)**

The moment the door was locked they were on each other, tearing away shirts and unzipping pants. Loki pushed Thor down into the chair beside one of the tattoo beds, moving to straddle him. Thor cupped Loki’s ass and pushed him closer, moaning as their clothed cocks brushed.

“Fuck. Do you have—“

Loki groaned, dropping his head to Thor’s neck. “No. Figure something out.”

Thor swore. He’d been looking forward to Loki’s cock all day, but he hadn’t thought Loki would want to fuck in the shop. Neither of them had lube, and they weren’t going to risk it.

“Okay. Fuck. Lean back for a sec.”

Thor tugged his cock out of his jeans, then did the same for Loki’s. He pressed them together and stroked slow, moaning at the feeling. Loki was moving his hips in Thor’s hand, and fuck, Thor felt like he was about to explode.

Loki wrapped one arm around Thor’s shoulders, leaving the other to trace along the lines of Thor’s ink. He paused over Thor’s chest, taking over pec in hand and squeezing it, nodding in approval. “Look at these. Your chest is _massive_. God—“

Thor twisted his hand, tightening it as Loki rolled a nipple between his fingers.

“I could fuck them. Fuck your chest like a pair of tits. There’s enough.” Loki’s hips were working faster in Thor’s grip, his voice breathy. “You’d love it. You’d fucking adore it.”

“Yeah. Fuck,” Thor groaned, eyes closed. Someone sticking their cock between his pecs wasn’t something he’d ever thought about before, but damn. Thor wanted it. A lot.

Loki pinched Thor’s nipple harder before moving to cup his chest again, rubbing and squeezing. It wasn’t long before the combined sensations of his chest and his cock had Thor coming all over his stomach. Loki followed, fucking into Thor’s hand with vigor as he coated Thor as well.

“God,” Thor swore, wrapping his arms tight around Loki.

**(sixty two)**

The first time Thor introduced Loki as his boyfriend, Loki smirked and retorted that no, Thor was _his_ boyfriend.

Eventually, when Thor introduced Loki as his boyfriend, Loki looked away.

**(sixty three)**

Sex between them was a power play. Thor didn’t really mind. Loki wanted the control, and Thor was willing to give it to him. Sometimes Loki fucked him, sometimes he fucked Loki, sometimes Loki shoved Thor against a wall, sometimes Thor got on knees—whatever it was, it was with Loki, and that was enough for Thor.

It apparently wasn't enough for Loki. Not always. Sometimes Thor would catch him checking out when they were together, retreating back into his own mind. Somewhere Thor couldn't follow.

“Hey,” Thor sighed, resting his chin on Loki’s shoulder. “Hey.”

“Can I help you?” Loki didn't turn around.  His work was clearly more interesting than Thor.

Thor bit his lip, frowning. “I said hey. Come on, let's go somewhere. Take a break. Get drinks.”

There was silence in the office save for the rustling of Loki’s paper. Thor kept his chin on Loki’s shoulder, tucking an arm around his middle. With a kiss to Loki’s neck, Thor sighed.

“This feels like the beginning again.”

Loki turned his head slightly. “Hmm?”

“You know. When you rejected my every attempt to get you to come out with us.” They should have been moving forward, not back. Thor thought he’d gotten into Loki’s strange little world, but Loki was shutting him out again. It terrified Thor.

“You want me to come have a drink with you?” Loki leaned back into Thor as Thor nodded. “You'll stop moping if I do?”

I'm not the one moping, Thor didn't say.

**(sixty four)**

They end up at Thor’s place far more than Loki’s. Thor was pretty sure this was another thing to do with sex being about power, which meant that if he pushed it, it’d end in a fight. So far, it hadn't been worth it.

They were in Thor’s kitchen, with Loki on the counter and Thor standing between Loki’s legs. Neither of them were doing much of anything; it seemed like a quiet, hold each other kind of night. That was perfectly fine with Thor, who enjoyed having Loki’s attention on him as much as Loki enjoyed Thor’s. Loki, it seemed, had other plans.

“Do you remember when I said your tits were big enough to fuck?” Loki’s voice was barely above a whisper, pressed against Thor’s ear.

Thor chuckled. “Yeah, you seem pretty enamoured with them.” Loki hadn’t stopped groping and rubbing and biting Thor’s chest since.

“I’m going to do it. Tonight.”

Thor snorted at Loki before realizing he was dead serious. “Uh,” Thor said. Eloquent.

“Do you not want it?” Everything about Loki’s tone told Thor that Loki knew very well Thor was at least curious.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

**(sixty five)**

They migrated to the bedroom, Loki leading Thor by the hand. Thor was all nerves behind him, and Loki smirked; Thor was nervous and unsure, which was exactly how Loki liked him. There was far more to keep under his thumb if Thor was unsure of himself.

And Loki had to keep Thor under his thumb. It was the only way this could work.

“Strip and lay down,” Loki instructed, moving to divest himself of his own clothing. Out of the nightstand he pulled a tube of lubricant, snapping the cap and squeezing some on to his hand. He could hear Thor laying down behind him, getting comfortable.

Turning around, Loki kneeled on the bed. Thor smiled at him, and Loki returned it before spreading his hand out on Thor’s chest.

“Oof,” Thor winced. “That’s cold. Come on, warm it up next time.”

“Shut up.” Loki swung his leg over Thor’s hip, settling down. He kept working his hands around Thor’s chest, squeezing the impressive mounds of muscle. Thor’s chest had been something of an obsession of his. The knowledge of what he was finally going to do sent shivers down Loki’s spine.

Thor was breathing a bit harder than normal, to which Loki responded by rolling a nipple between his fingers. “You like this.”

“Yeah,” Thor breathed. “Yeah.”

Of course. Loki was all but worshipping Thor’s chest with light touches and possessive gropes. His own cock was hardening at the simple feeling of Thor’s muscle under his hand, and from the feel of it, Thor was getting there too.

Leaning over, Loki grabbed the lube, squeezing more onto his palm. He warmed it with his fingers before spreading it on his cock, working himself to full hardness. “Okay. Use your hands to push your chest together.”  

Thor did as told, and Loki leaned down, rubbing his cock between the groove of Thor’s chest.

**(sixty six)**

For something not meant to be an erogenous zone on his body, Thor sure was getting a lot of feedback from Loki’s cock rubbing against his chest. His cock had gone from half hard to full mast the moment Loki had pressed down, and it felt like every thrust was going right to his balls.

“Fuck,” Thor groaned, pushing his chest together more. Loki let out a breath of appreciation, his hips still working in shallow thrusts. “Fuck, Loki.”

“Yeah,” Loki said, his voice an amazed chuckle. It was better than either of them had guessed, it seemed. The thick line of black running down the centre of Thor’s torso was right under Loki’s cock, a fact that made Thor groan further.

It was like Loki was closer to him than they’d ever been fucking each other, and Thor laughed.

“Care to tell me what’s so funny?” Loki’s hips didn’t stop moving as he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re fucking my tattoo.”

Loki looked down. Moving to put both his hands on either side of Thor’s head, eyes wide, he looked down, staring at his cock moving along the ink. “Yeah, fuck, bet you love that. Look at you. I own every part of you.”

“Fuck,” Thor swore again. “Yeah, fuck. Come on. Come all over my ink.”

Hips speeding up, Loki dropped his forehead to press against Thor’s. The slide of his cocks between the valley of muscle on Thor’s chest had Loki close, from the look of it, and Thor’s cock was aching with neglect.

Loki came suddenly, gasping as his come hit Thor’s chin and chest. He rode out his aftershocks, hips pumping, until Thor planted his feet and moved his hips to remind Loki of his own cock.

With a snort, Loki moved down Thor’s body, wrapping a fist around Thor’s cock. “Look at you. You loved this. You want me to do this to you over and over until you're covered in my come.”

Thor thrust up into Loki’s fist, not bothering to deny Loki. Yeah, he wanted that. He had no idea why they hadn't done this sooner.

“Come on. Come all over yourself. I know you want to.”

Loki tightened his fist further, and Thor gasped, coming hard. Glancing at his chest, Thor took in the sight of his come mingling with Loki’s over his tattoos. He dropped back with a satisfied sound, holding his arms out for Loki.

“No, Thor. You're filthy.”

Thor wiggled his fingers, and Loki sighed as he moved to lay on his chest. “Fine.”

**(sixty seven)**

“Hey, Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

**(sixty eight)**

It wasn’t unusual for Loki to be late. He sometimes showed up an hour after them, just to show them he could.

It had been three hours. Sif had a key—Loki needed someone else to hold one and he hadn’t trusted Amora enough—so they were able to go about their business just fine. None of Loki’s clients showed up, which was pretty lucky, since Loki didn't either.

Thor left Loki a few texts, but knowing Loki would find a barrage of them annoying, he left it alone.

Loki wasn't there the next day.

The third day they went to work to find someone had changed the locks.

**(sixty nine)**

_Loki?_

_Hey, Loki, are you okay?_

_Please, Loki, are you hurt?_

**(seventy)**

Thor called every hospital in the city. No hospital had a patient with Loki’s name.

He tried to look into whether Loki had been arrested or not, but Sif told him not to bother (“Loki is way too much of a manipulative, sneaky slime to actually let himself be arrested for anything.”) so he let that one go.

**(seventy one)**

_Loki, please_

_Loki what's going on_

_Are you okay?_

**(seventy two)**

When a week with no one, not even Amora, passed with no word of Loki, Thor was getting ready to put out a missing persons report. He should have done that at the beginning, but something in his gut had made him wait.

Then his phone rang. The caller ID said Loki. Thor snatched it up and answered, breathless.

“Loki?”

“Yes,” came the voice on the other end, and yeah. It was Loki.

“Loki, where are you? What's going on?”

Loki was silent.

“Please. Are you okay?”

“Yes,”

“Where are you? Are you coming back?”

“No. Don't text me anymore, Thor. Don’t call me.”

Thor sucked in a breath, about to ask _why_ , but a beep told him Loki had hung up.

Loki was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**(seventy three)**

Thor listened to _Somebody That I Used to Know_ on repeat for a week.

He found a new job relatively quickly. Amora followed him—she told him as much—and Volstagg took some time off to be with his kids. Sif said she was working on opening her own shop, which was a bit of a process, but Thor promised to work for her as soon as she opened her doors.

On the surface, everyone moved on.

And Sif probably actually did. Loki and Sif had never liked each other.

Amora was making a show of being annoyed with Loki, but Thor wasn’t sure if that was more because she missed her friend or her paycheck. For all he was happy to be with his family, Volstagg did seem to honestly miss Loki, and somehow, Thor wasn’t all that surprised. Volstagg had the admirable ability to get along with anyone.

Thor felt totally alone.

His new co-workers were nice enough, and he enjoyed going out for coffee with Sif every morning, and Fandral and Hogun and Volstagg managed to get him to go out to all sorts of weird bars, but at the end of the day, Thor still went home alone.

It was a ridiculous thing to feel, Thor knew. They hadn’t lived together, so really, he’d always should have been going home alone—but he hadn’t. Thor and Loki had ended up in each other’s beds more often than not near the end of it.

The _end._

At first, Thor cried a lot. Now he just felt numb at the thought.

**(seventy four)**

“Thor,” Sif said, and Thor didn’t even need her to say any more. _Thor, I care about you, I’m sorry this happened. Thor, get over him, he’s a piece of shit. Thor, you didn’t know each other that long in the scheme of things, you’ll be happy again. Thor, please._

“I know.” Thor dumped more sugar in his coffee. Their conversations were never that long anymore, and that wasn’t even because of Thor—Opening the new shop was taking its toll on Sif’s energy stores.

Sif smiled at him, and Thor returned it.

“It is getting easier. Day by day.” Thor cleared his throat; it wasn’t a lie.

**(seventy five)**

“So,” Logan said, clinking his bottle against Thor’s. “Who is it that fucked up your pattern?”

Thor frowned down at him (literally; Logan was almost comically short). “What?”

“Your tattoos. The one on your thigh doesn’t match.”

Steve laughed beside them. “When did you see Thor’s thigh?”

At that, Thor waved a hand. “No. Hey. No, it’s not what it sounds like. I fell asleep in the shop one night and Logan walked in as I was changing.”

“Changing—what, you keep spare pants in the shop?”

Thor didn’t look at Steve, which was all the answer he needed. “Why do you keep pants in the shop?”

“To answer your question, Logan—someone, uh.”

What? Someone he dated? Someone he loved once?

“No, hey. I get it,” Logan said, and it was dropped.

**(seventy six)**

“So how often do you sleep here?” Steve helped one very drunk Thor into the passenger side of his car, making sure all his limbs were in before shutting the door.

“Mmm. Few nights a week.” Lolling his head back, Thor closed his eyes against the swirling lights happening around him. “Not much.”

“Why?”

Thor didn’t answer Steve, and Steve left it, assuming Thor was just too drunk.

**(seventy seven)**

When Loki told Thor to not contact him again, he didn’t completely mean it.

Did he want to talk to Thor? No. Loki had no desire to have much meaningful contact with Thor. But did he want to feel like Thor missed him? Needed him?

Yes. Obviously.

But _nothing_. Thor had stopped trying, and it was infuriating. If Thor actually knew anything about Loki, he’d have kept trying.

No contact.

Loki was sure Thor would give him some _I was respecting you_ bullshit excuse, but Loki wouldn’t buy it. Thor just didn’t care.

Thor must have given up. Loki wasn’t impressed.

The only person from the shop Loki was still keeping contact with was Amora, and even that was sporadic. He told her that he had a grand plan, something about a new shop, but in reality, he had nothing.

Loki was moving around from motel to motel, dodging calls and stewing. That was it.

He hated himself, and he hated Thor, and he wasn’t sure which feeling was stronger.

**(seventy eight)**

“Sir.”

Loki held up a hand, still staring down at the screen of his phone.

“ _Sir_. You need to pay for the room.”

“If you give me a moment—“

Reaching over the counter, the woman working motel reception snapped her fingers in Loki’s face. “Look, honey. I don’t know what is so important, but it’s only going to take you five seconds to give me the cash.”

Pulling the money out of his pocket, Loki slammed it down, giving the woman the most poisonous smile he had.

Room seven. Whatever. Didn’t matter.

He had a text from Thor.

_Good guy age at miss you so much_

Autocorrected to hell and back. A drunk text. It was something. Loki could work with that.

**(seventy nine)**

Thor groaned and slapped a hand over his eyes. He was uncomfortable, and sore, and it was too bright, and fuck—the hell was that sound?

Ah. Phone. His phone.

After fumbling around for a few minutes (and realising that no, he was very much not in his apartment), Thor found his phone in his pocket, and swiped the screen to answer.

“Mmm—what?”

“Now, is that any way to talk to me?”

Oh. _Oh._

Thor sat straight up and groaned at the rush to his head. “Loki?”

“Do you not have caller id anymore? Yes. It’s me.”

Okay. He was in the shop, hangover, and taking a call from Loki. Interesting morning. “No. Yeah, I mean. Sorry. Fuck, Loki, where the hell—are you okay?”

“Yes. Very. I told you not to call me.”

Thor sucked in a breath, because yeah, Loki had. Hard as it was, Thor had been trying to respect Loki’s space—Loki said he was gone, and Thor refused to be the stalker ex. That kind of thing was nowhere near as romantic as movies made it out to be.

“Thor.”

“I miss you. I love you.” Thor knew that wasn’t fair, at all, but he had to have it out there.

“I know,” Loki said, and hung up.

Thor swore at the call ended beep. It took all he had to not throw his phone to the other end of the shop. Hopping off the tattoo bed, Thor stumbled to the back. Pants. Pants, and not Loki. Don’t think about Loki. Someone had moved everything around, putting the paper towels where the boxes of paper were, and his pants had been under those boxes, so what the fuck—

“You okay, goldilocks?”

“Fuck,” Thor yelled, shooting straight up and hitting his head on a shelf. Logan was standing behind him, chuckling at Thor’s predicament.

“If you’re looking for your stuff, it’s in the bathroom.”

Thor waved an appreciative hand at Logan and went to change, scowling. His head needed greasy food and rest, but he was probably only going to get the first one. It was almost time to open shop and Thor was booked all day.

 _Great_. Of course. Thor just hoped he’d still be on his game; no good to give anyone bad ink.

**(eighty)**

One scrap of contact was all they needed to crack open that door again. It was a pattern; Thor called Loki, or texted him, or emailed him, and Loki waited a while before telling him off. It was the barest of relationships.  
  
They both needed it.  
  
They craved each other on a level they both did not want to address. Thor threw himself into his work, and Loki resolutely ignored that he felt anything other than annoyance.  
  
Thor didn't tell Sif that he had contact with Loki again, because how he could he? What would he say? Their morning coffee was filled with conversation with anything but Loki, and Sif was clearly taking that as a good sign.  
  
They passed a year like that.  
  
 **(eighty one)**  
  
Someone famous walked into the shop. They walked out with Thor's card. Thor didn't think anything of it. It'd been exciting to tattoo someone that they had all seen in movies, but Thor had thought that the end of it.  
  
Turned out it wasn't.  
  
A month after Thor had handed over his card, he got a call. The someone famous had handed along his card, who had handed along his card, who had checked out his website and loved it. They wanted to give Thor a job.  
  
Thor turned it down, which earned him an earful from Sif. It wasn't a job he wanted. He would have been painting false tattoos on for movies and television. No ink, and rarely his own design. It was flattering, and it wasn't what Thor wanted out of his craft.  
  
But that wasn't the end of it. Someone famous sent their friend to Thor, who sent their friend, who sent their agent, who sent...  
  
And soon, Thor had appointments booked a year in advance.

  
 **(eighty two)**  
  
Loki saw it at the book store. There, on the cover of one of the biggest tattoo magazines, was Thor. His Thor. The blurb claimed to have the best feature on the hottest new tattoo big shot.  
  
Loki bought four. He burned one.  
  
It wasn't fair. Thor belonged to him, not the world. This was never supposed to happen.  
  
He was far too proud to call Thor first, so Loki waited. When Thor texted him, it was about the magazine, and Loki fumed. Thor wasn't supposed to focus on anything other than Loki during their conversations. Loki didn't respond.  
  
The next time he heard from Thor was in an email a week later. It was long, as Thor's emails always were. The usual was there— Loki, I miss you, how have you been, I worry about you— but at the end was an invitation.  
  
Thor was a guest at a tattoo convention. He wanted Loki to go.  
  
Loki sent back a short response: no.  
  
 **(eighty three)**  
  
Thor saw the rejection coming. It still hurt.  
  
Volstagg, Amora, Logan, and Sif all were coming along. They had two adjoining hotel rooms, plans to celebrate, and a lot of work. He was still happy. They would have a good time.  
  
And Thor knew that Loki showing up would probably not end in a happy, tearful reunion. He had enough stress going on with being a featured guest. Nothing would be improved with the drama Loki would bring.  
  
But Thor still hoped. Loki was never a man to keep to his word. A no might end up meaning yes.  
  
So Thor hoped. He craved Loki, and he craved all the trouble Loki brought along.  
  
 **(eighty four)**  
  
"You're distracted," Sif said, tapping Thor's arm. They're on the plane, and Sif had been talking to him, but Thor hadn't been listening.  
  
"What— sorry. Big weekend coming up." Thor shot her an apologetic grin, hoping it would keep her from prying further.  
  
It didn't. Of course.  
  
"Yep. And you're not thinking about that."  
  
"Get out of my head," Thor sighed. Sif squeezed his bicep.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Thor paused. He could come clean, or he could keep hiding Loki from Sif. But there would be no hiding Loki if he showed up, and Sif finding out that way wouldn't be fair to any of them.  
  
And Thor was pretty sure Sif had been expecting for a while.  
  
"Loki," Thor said, glancing at her. "I invited him."  
  
Sif pulls away, disgusted. "You what? Why?"  
  
"Because I miss him. Because I still love—"  
  
"Don't do this to yourself," Sif said, soft.  
  
They left it at that.  
  
 **(eighty five)**  
  
Loki was sure he wasn't going up until the moment he booked his flight. One way, no hotel room. Not a smart move, but one he was going to make.

For all Loki prided himself on being able to read Thor, this was one situation in which Loki had no idea what Thor was thinking. They both had known Loki was going to reject the invitation— but what was Thor expecting? Did he think Loki would show up anyway?

The urge to sneer at that thought was thoroughly dampened by the fact that yes, Loki was going to show up anyway.

**(eighty six)**

Thor found the hotel bar as soon as they unpacked. Sif offered to come with him, but Thor waved her off. She hadn't said much to him since he had admitted to inviting Loki, and Thor wasn't in the mood for more angry silence.

He sat at the counter, sipping a beer and absently chewing on some fries. For all he understood why Sif was mad, Thor didn't really think it was her place. He was the one that was going to fuck up with Loki again, not her.  It was his life, his heart, and his choices.

Four beers and two baskets of fries later, Thor had worked himself up into a twitching rage. And while he was mad at Sif (and at Loki), the vast majority of his anger was reserved for himself.

Thor had fucked up. He had read the situation wrong. He had gotten tangled in Loki's bullshit. He couldn't kick himself out of it. He hid it from his friends. He—

"Drinking alone?"

"Not anymore," Thor said, turning around.

Thor stared, and Loki stared, both taking the other in. Their hair was longer. Loki had switched to contacts. Thor looked tired. Loki looked skinny.

"You look like shit," they both said, and allowed themselves a smile.

Thor patted the stool beside him. "Come on. Let's have a drink before we fight."

"Oh, we're going to fight?" Loki took a seat, dropping his bag on the ground beside them.

Thor signed and waved the bartender over for another beer. "How could we not? You think I'm not absolutely pissed at you?"

"Well," Loki said, tapping the counter.

**(eighty seven)**

Thor and Sif were sharing a room. He couldn't take Loki there.

But he had to take Loki somewhere, because they couldn't fight in the bar. Loki didn't have a room (which, really, was just like Loki), so Thor ended up paying for one at the no tell motel down the street.

Loki was on Thor as soon as the door closed. Slotting himself against Thor's back, Loki pressed his hips into Thor's ass, breath gusting over his shoulder. "Now, what am I to make of this?"

And Thor was torn.

He could pull away from Loki, yell out most of what he'd been feeling, apologize for the rest, and demand an explanation. It'd be satisfying if Loki actually listened and answered, but Thor knew Loki wouldn't.

Or he could strip down and let Loki fuck him. Thor had missed that part of their relationship as well. Maybe they could put off the fight for a while yet.

Yeah. That sounded good.

"You'd better give me my money's worth."

Loki laughed.

**(eighty eighty)**

Loki wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he found Thor, but ending up balls deep in Thor's ass less than an hour after saying hello hadn't been it.

No matter. This was far better than trying to talk to Thor.

After he came in Thor, Loki pulled out and flipped Thor over to suck him off. Thor was already sensitive, and he came shivering and shouting.

After a quick rest, they slotted their bodies together and thrust their cocks against the other's stomach.

Cleaning up in the shower lead to Loki eating Thor out, and Thor returning the favour.

By the time they were ready to sleep, they were both too tired to even think about having a real conversation.

**(eighty nine)**

The morning started with Thor's phone ringing and Loki groaning at him to answer it already. Grabbing it, Thor accepted the call while staring down at the bed. Loki hadn't left in the night. Thor was sure he would wake up alone.

This seemed like a good sign.

"Yeah?"

"Where the hell are you?" It was Sif. Thor's stomach dropped.

"I'm—" Thor clamped a hand over Loki's mouth. Just in case. "I'm getting everyone coffee."

"And that took you all night? Why didn't you come back to the room?"

"I got sidetracked. Augh!"

Loki had bit him. Thor glared.

"Augh? Are you okay," Sif asked, and before Thor could reply, Loki bit him again. Much harder.

Hard enough that Thor pulled his hand away, leaving Loki's mouth free.

"Hello, Sif," Loki chirped, grabbing at the phone before Thor could pull it away.

Thor could hear Sif yell Loki's name. After a few minutes of listening, Loki nodded and handed the phone back. "It's for you."

"Fuck you," Thor spat, holding the phone back up to his ear. "Sif, look. It's not—"

"I cannot believe how fucking stupid you are."

"I know," Thor said, frowning at Loki, who was shoving Thor onto his back. And pulling down the sheet. And—

"Exactly what do you think you're doing?"

Watching Loki suck on my balls, Thor firmly did not say.

"I don't know," Thor said instead, and it was the truth.

 


End file.
